Tears of the Fallen
by Qwi-Xux
Summary: When the crew of Serenity runs afoul of a slave ring, River takes it upon herself to infiltrate it in an attempt to shut it down. MalRiver
1. Chapter 1

This story is a sequel to _You Can't Go Home Again, _but it can be read separately. There will be a few mentions of the events in the previous story, but the actual plot is different and doesn't require reading of the first story, though if you haven't read the first story you'd need to know that Inara is dead, and Simon and Kaylee are married and have a daughter.

**Disclaimer: **Not mine and never will be mine. Just playing in the great big 'verse Joss Whedon created.

**Pairings: **Mal/River. The prequel was showing their friendship, but this one delves into the romance part of it. Some Simon/Kaylee. :)

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE**

"Never rightly thought we'd set foot on this rock again." Jayne clunked over beside Mal, a large cup of ale in hand.

"We go where the work is," Mal said, sipping on his own brew. "They needed med supplies, we brought 'em med supplies. Besides, they're a friendly sorta folk."

"'Xcept that psychotic bride ya picked up here," Jayne snorted.

"Well, she weren't really one of 'em," Mal said calmly, his eyes falling on the settlers dancing around the fire to a very upbeat song. "Just don't let no woman give you a drink and you're safe."

Jayne eyed him sideways. "What's so bad about bein' hitched?"

"To you?" Zoe asked, stepping out of the darkness. "That goes without sayin'." A small smile—the closest thing to a smirk that Zoe ever gave—graced her features, and Jayne scowled at her.

"It's—" Mal was cut off when a young lady stepped up and pulled Jayne away, and Mal shook his head.

"The beast has been loosed," Zoe said dryly. "Feel like we should put up bulletins or somethin'." She crossed her arms. "Though consequently, it ain't just the Triumph women prospectin'." She nodded at the circle of dancers, where River was laughing and swinging around on the arm of a grinning, star-struck young man.

Mal eyed the man shrewdly. "I ain't worried. River could knock him out with her pinky if she had the mind to." He turned his eyes back on Zoe. "You been breakin' the hearts of these poor, unsuspectin' settlers?" Zoe might've knocked him flat for saying this to her at one time, but it had been nearly three years since Wash's death, and she'd been healing, much as anyone did from that sort of thing.

The corners of Zoe's mouth turned up. "Takes a special kinda man to deal with me. Not sure there'll ever be another."

"You might just be surprised someday."

Zoe chuckled. "Might be, at that. But you ain't one to talk. I don't see you out there."

Mal gave her a look. "I already done this one. Ended up in a pretty predicament."

"Speakin' of predicaments, I just got off the line with Badger."

"Figures. What's that _hun dan _want this time?"

"Says he's got a job, if we're interested."

"Might be. Did he say what the job is?"

"Transportin' somethin' to Greenleaf. Didn't say what, and I ain't one to ask."

"Well, we ain't too far from Persephone. Might well take it; ain't like jobs are fallin' outta the sky." And it wasn't like they had a lot of steady contacts left after the events of the past couple of years. It was good to keep the ones they _did _have satisfied, when they could. "We still got another few weeks before we gotta pick up Simon and Kaylee. So. You'll wave him?"

"Aye, sir." With another tiny smile, Zoe turned smartly and walked off in the direction of the ship.

Mal's gaze drifted over to Jayne, who was drinking and laughing with one of the local men, the woman who had pulled him away hanging on his arm, and then over to River, who was still dancing. His sharp eye caught at least two, possibly three men eyeing her with more than casual interest. Made sense; they didn't get many strange gals from foreign parts in the settlement, and River was certainly different. Pretty, graceful, intelligent—though not all of the men eyeing her had talked to her, so it probably wasn't her intelligence that interested them.

Mal settled down with his back pressed against one of the logs the villagers used as benches and took another sip of his ale. He'd meant what he said to Zoe—he wasn't worried about River; she had long proven that she could take care of herself—but he kept an eye on her on principle.

River must have felt his regard—or maybe heard his thoughts, though he guessed there were too many people around for that to be likely—because she paused in the middle of her dance and turned to glance over at him. A tiny smile crinkled his eyes and he held up a hand in a lazy wave.

River spoke to her dance partner, who looked disappointed and said something in return. River shook her head and skipped over to Mal, managing to flop down beside him while still looking graceful about it. "What's going on?" she asked, not even breathing hard.

"Nothin'. You didn't have to stop dancin', darlin'. Looks like you broke the poor man's heart." Mal nodded at River's partner, who was walking dejectedly out of the circle of dancers, looking like he'd just been told Christmas was cancelled.

River smiled and rolled her eyes a little. "He doesn't get out much," she confided.

Mal turned a half-smile on her before taking another drink. "How do you figure?"

"Because he thinks I'm exotic," River said, breathing out an amused laugh. "I've had two marriage proposals. It's a good thing Simon's not here." She studied Mal through her curtain of dark hair. "So what's going on? Don't tell me 'nothing.' I can see right through you." She leaned her head against his arm, and her cheek moved against his arm as she spoke. "Even if I couldn't read you, I know you. You had that _look._"

"I got looks now?" Mal carefully shifted his cup from his right hand to his left so he could drink it without disturbing River.

"Loads of them." River curled her legs up and wrapped one arm around them. "And if looks could kill, my dance partner would be dead. Or possibly just unconscious."

"He'd just better be careful with you, is all. Don't need my pilot bothered. Especially as she's workin' as my mechanic while my mechanic's off gallivantin'."

"Gallivanting wouldn't be exactly accurate," River said thoughtfully. "Kaylee's not wandering about seeking pleasure or diversion, or going about with members of the opposite sex. Except Simon, but that's different. It's—"

Mal nudged her with his elbow. "You know what I mean. Ain't no call to be a smartass."

River looked up, her dark eyes dancing mischievously. "What can I say? I'm gifted."

Mal laughed. "Ain't hard to be gifted at bein' a smartass, River."

"Just saying." Her grin faded as her eyes turned back to the settlers. "And he wasn't going to hurt me," she said, nodding at her forlorn-looking dance partner, who kept shooting woeful glances her way. "He's a sweetheart. A little shy. Now, some of the others…" Her eyes narrowed slightly, and Mal felt a little shiver run through her. "I don't like their thoughts," she murmured. "I'm used to the…occasional fantasy invading my mind, but…not…" She shook her head. "It's unpleasant," she said simply.

Mal gazed out at the men, wondering which ones would be thinking unpleasant fantasies about River, and not liking the idea at all. "Maybe we should head back to the ship."

"I like dancing," River said. "Besides, if I let bothersome thoughts get to me all the time, I'd never do anything."

They rested in companionable silence for a moment, and then Mal dragged himself upright and held a hand down for River. She took it and swung lithely to her feet. "Go dance, then. Let me know if I gotta knock anyone out."

"What? You don't think I could do it?"

"I know you could, but you're a lot nicer than I am. Might take you longer to hit someone that deserves it."

River laughed and shook her head. She gave Mal one last smile before trotting over to rejoin her partner, who looked as if the sun had just come out after a week of thunderstorms. The sight of it still bothered Mal, but he knew there was no reason it should and did his best to shrug it off. River was twenty; an adult capable of making her own decisions.

He kept an eye on her—and on Jayne, getting drunker by the moment—the same way he always kept an eye on his crew. He watched Jayne get tipsy to the point of passing out on the ground, and figured he'd leave him there till he woke up, since he was a mite heavy to be dragging back to _Serenity._

It wasn't long before River again stopped dead in the middle of her dancing, but this time, she focused her gaze outward, at something that Mal couldn't see. Her head tilted slightly to the side, as if she was listening, and Mal was suddenly tense and alert. He'd seen that look from her enough to know that she sensed trouble coming.

He quickly spoke into his radio. "Zoe."

It was several seconds before her voice crackled out of his radio. "Sir."

"What's your position?"

"On _Serenity. _You got trouble?"

"Think so. Ain't sure what yet. Just have the ship ready."

He made a beeline for River while he spoke. Mal had almost reached her when figures materialized out of the darkness surrounding the camp, and the sound of gunfire cut the air.

Mal had his gun out in an instant, turning around as he eyed the intruders. There were a lot of them—maybe twenty men emerging from the surrounding area. There were less of them than the villagers, but that didn't mean much, since they were armed and the villagers weren't. They had obviously planned this, as they had come from different angles, completely surrounding the unsuspecting settlers.

One of the strangers, a lean man with a scruffy face, fired another round into the air, and spoke into the dead silence. "If I can have your attention!" he called. "We ain't lookin' to kill no one, so just stay nice and quiet and we won't have no trouble."

"Mal."

Mal jumped slightly at the sound of River's voice, very near his ear. He spared a glance her way, and saw that she was standing just behind him.

"I don't think I can take them all," she murmured. "Too spread out. Too many guns. The variables are too great. Death would be inevitable."

Mal had seen some pretty extraordinary things from River, but even he thought it would be stupid to try to take on all of these armed men. He'd bet on River living, but she was right—someone would surely die. "Think you might be right. Know what they want?" he whispered.

"Yes."

She didn't have to tell him, for the next moment, the leader of the group was explaining quite plainly. "Now, I need for all the pretty young ladies to come on over this a-way." He waved his gun behind him. "We're gonna all take a little trip together."

Mal's breath hissed out between his teeth. Slavers. Had to be. There'd been a lot of reports lately of mercenaries being hired to collect slaves, and women were in quite a lot of demand in some areas, for reasons Mal didn't want to dwell on. The authorities had been trying to shut the slaving ring down, with very little success. He started to raise his gun, but River shook her head subtly. "If they see it, they'll shoot you. Not the right time."

"Come on now!" the leader shouted. "I ain't got all night!" He nodded, and half a dozen of the men began weaving through the settlers, pointing their guns and forcing the women out, like lambs to the slaughter. Several of the village men gave angry shouts and threw themselves on two of the gunmen, and during the ensuing struggle, Mal grabbed River's wrist and pulled her to a crouch. The sound of gunfire and the sudden silence from the village men told their fate.

"Ain't much time to _be _a right time, River," Mal muttered, eyeing the crowd and trying to figure a way out of it. These men might not be stupid enough to be fooled by thinking _Serenity _had weapons, so having Zoe fly over might only anger them.

River pinned Mal with her eyes. "Do you trust me?"

A few years ago, the answer would've been no, without a question. But times had changed, and so had River. "You gotta ask?"

"Good." And to his surprise, she stood swiftly to her feet as the men approached. She held up her hands calmly, and shot Mal a look that clearly told him not to interfere. He gave her his own look in response, and thought, as strongly as he could, _what the hell are you doin'?_

She only offered a quick, reassuring smile and headed off with the other women. The slavers separated them, taking some of the women—probably the ones they determined they'd get a good price for—and leaving others behind. Mal didn't even bother hoping they wouldn't take River. She was too pretty for them to pass by, and sure enough, they took her along, disappearing with their quarry from the firelight into the darkness beyond. As swiftly as they'd come, the slavers were gone, and chaos ensued as the village men began to panic. Mal ignored them all and radioed Zoe. "Zoe, do sensors pick up a ship anywhere nearby?"

"Just a tick…yes. Not far from your position, looks like it's taking off."

"I'm headed back to the ship. _Do not _lose that boat!"

In less than a minute, Mal hit _Serenity's _cargo bay at a dead run. "I'm on! Take us out." He reached the cockpit moments later, as _Serenity _lurched underneath him.

Zoe was in the pilot's chair, and spared him a glance. "Jayne and River?"

"Jayne's passed out drunk. River's on that boat. Slavers paid the Triumph settlers a little visit."

"And they managed to keep hold of River?" Zoe asked skeptically.

"She went willin'. Might be she has a plan to get away when the advantage is better—weren't much of one back in town."

"They're gonna see us on sensors if we follow 'em," Zoe pointed out.

"Doesn't matter. Look at it—_Thesius_-class transport ship. Minimal weapons."

"Yeah, but they _got _weapons," Zoe said pointedly. "Opposed to us. Sir."

"Then we'll just have to try to stay outta the way of the weapons." Zoe gave him another look, and Mal sighed. "Yeah, I know. I hope River's got a better plan, too."

:-:-:

River had the entire layout of the slavers' ship memorized by the time she was locked into a tiny room with a dozen other women. She had pieced it together from the minds of the mercenaries, and her general knowledge of ship models. This boat was boxy, with two mismatched floors. The cockpit was on the bottom floor, fore section. The room River was in was on the top floor, aft.

And it was very crowded. Not only physically—she barely had the space to move—but also mentally. Thoughts swarmed in and out of her head, bits and pieces of panic and hopelessness. She did her best to focus on her own thoughts, a difficult feat with all the voices in her head, but if she concentrated hard enough, the others' thoughts became background noise. That, she could handle.

She was also the only calm one in the room. Several of the women were crying, and one girl—no older than fifteen—was in hysterics. River drew a deep breath, focusing on what she needed to do. She gently laid her hand on the girl crammed nearest the door. "Would you mind switching places with me for a moment?"

The girl, in her panicked state, looked at River as if she were crazy. Which, River admitted to herself, she had been, a time or two. Still, this had nothing to do with sanity and everything to do with ability.

The poor girl switched places with River, who ran her hand over the wall. The locks on the ship were wired into the doors, and could be locked individually from the inside, or overridden and completely locked down from the outside, just like on _Serenity._ But they were all _wired, _and the wires ran straight through this wall. And these walls also had panels so that the wires could be more easily repaired if something went wrong.

River dug her fingers under one such panel and began to pry it off. Normally, such maintenance would require tools, but she didn't have tools available. She ended up having to use her fingernails, which actually tore half of one off. She hissed in pain, but gritted her teeth and continued to work on the panel.

She was rewarded when it finally came off the wall. By now, the other women had noticed her actions, and the fact that she seemed to be _doing _something had calmed them down a bit. They were all watching her as best as they could from their various positions in the room.

River set the panel on the floor and began to sort through the wires. She found the ones she was looking for and smiled. "Don't worry," she told the others. "I'm going to get us out of this." It took only a moment for River to cross the right wires and pop the lock on the door. She reached out with her mind, closing her eyes and concentrating. The thoughts of the numerous people on board rose and swarmed in her mind, swimming together in a giant pool of babbling. It took tremendous concentration to sort through the cacophony of voices in her head, but before long, River was positive she had the positions of the twenty-four slavers on board. None of them were out in the corridor, but that might not last for long, so she swiftly opened the door and clambered out. "I'll be back," she promised, before shutting the door behind her.

From there it was simply a matter of getting control of the cockpit, and for River Tam, it was a fairly easy task compared to a lot of what she had faced in her life, especially because the slavers didn't expect one of their captives to be out wandering the ship.

The only difficulty River had was with some of the thoughts around her. Not everyone on board was female—though these particular slavers had been ordered to deliver a lot of women to those that had hired them—but quite a few of the women had been badly abused in the time they had been on board. These thoughts clawed at the inside of River's brain, so ugly and vile that she wanted to be sick, but she couldn't. The best thing she could do for these people was to rescue them from any further harm.

She managed to get to the bottom floor of the ship without raising an alarm—she had to knock three slavers out on the way, locking their unconscious bodies in a utility closet—but she slowly and surely made her way to the cockpit. She stopped outside the door—there were four men in there, all armed, but three of them were standing fairly close together.

In their minds, River heard that they were debating what to do about the ship following them, as they weren't in range for their cannons to do any good.

Making a quick calculation, she threw herself into the room, aiming for the man standing off by himself. He was the closest to her, and she had his body in front of her as a shield and his own gun in her hand in less than two seconds. It took that long for the next man to realize she was there and pull out his gun, but he was two seconds too late. She shot the gun out of his hand, and then moved forward, forcing her bodyguard along, and swept into the middle of the others, until they all lay unconscious on the floor.

She quickly dragged the bodies out of the cockpit, then shut and locked the door and hurried to the pilot's seat. A quick look at the console told her everything she needed to know—_Serenity_ was still behind them, and she quickly waved them.

Mal's face appeared on the screen in front of River, and he visibly relaxed when he saw her. "Well. There you are. Was wonderin' what was takin' you so long."

River wasn't in a very lighthearted mood; not with everything assailing her brain. "I have control of the cockpit. I'm turning back around to set down on Triumph; I'll take down all of the slavers one by one if I have to, but they're not getting off this boat."

"There ain't much law out on Triumph, but there's an Alliance cruiser 'bout two hours out. Can you disable the ship so's they can't fix it? Get the slavers locked up?"

"You need to ask?"

"Right—wave when that's done and we'll move the prisoners onto _Serenity _and take them back to Triumph. We'll leave the slavers for the feds."

River nodded.

"_Xiaoxin_."

"I'm always careful, Mal."

Mal snorted in disbelief. "Think we got two different meanings of the word in mind, darlin'." He nodded at her. "Get goin', then."

River ended the wave and took a deep breath, rolling back on the balls of her feet. Time to show the slavers what happened when their prey could fight back.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

Mal counted people as River and Zoe ushered them through the cargo bay doors, and the final count came to eighty-four. Eighty-four men, women, and a few children that had just been saved from lives of slavery.

"Nice job," he told River. She looked at him quickly, something flickering in her eyes so fast that he couldn't make out the expression. "You all right? Your hand's bleedin'."

River curled her hand into a fist. "It's nothing."

"Well, why don't you bandage that 'nothing' and then get to flyin' us back to Triumph. We'll drop these folks off and pick up Jayne's sorry ass."

River gave the barest nod and wove her way through the crowd in the cargo bay. Mal watched her head up the stairs, and then turned back to help Zoe try to keep the people calm and somewhat organized.

Within an hour, they had unloaded all of their grateful passengers onto Triumph and roused Jayne enough to get him on _Serenity._ Glad that the ordeal was over with, and that they'd actually come out on top for once, he ordered a course set for Persephone. River disappeared into the cockpit without a word—in fact, Mal realized, other than telling him her injured finger was nothing, she hadn't said anything since boarding _Serenity_. Considering he didn't really know what she had dealt with on the slavers' ship, he thought it might be best to have a word with her now that things were quiet.

Once they were out of atmo, he went to the cockpit, but River had set the ship on autopilot and wasn't there. He did a quick search of her usual haunts—she wasn't on the catwalks, not in the kitchen or the common room, and not in her bedroom in the passenger quarters. He'd offered her a room in the crew quarters with all of the rest of them a long time ago, but she had turned him down.

He was a mite concerned then, but when River wanted to hide, she could do it pretty damn well. She knew the ship as well as he did, and she could also tell when he was coming, so she had the advantage there. And the fact that she was hiding meant that she likely didn't want to talk, so he figured he might just need to wait till she emerged.

However, when River didn't surface for lunch or dinner, Mal got truly worried. After Zoe and a hung-over Jayne had retired for the night, Mal made another sweep of the ship, and found that the door to her room was shut, where it had been open earlier. He tapped on it. "River." There was no reply, and Mal wondered if she'd fallen asleep. "River? You in there?"

"No." River's voice was muffled.

Mal smiled. "Fine. You decent?"

A heavy sigh met his ears, and River muttered, "Yes."

Mal slid the door to the side, and saw that she was crouched on the bed, her back pressed into the corner where the walls met. He stepped into the room and approached, setting a plate with several rolls on it beside her. "You missed dinner. Should be eatin'; you're bitty enough as it is."

"I wasn't hungry," River replied, her eyes flickering from the rolls to Mal's face and then settling on her bedspread. She ran her hand over it, picking at a loose thread. "Still not hungry."

Mal sat awkwardly on the edge of her bed.

"You want to know what's wrong."

To his surprise and further concern, her voice trembled, and he realized that there were tears in her eyes. He reached out and wiped a tear off her cheek, only then feeling how cold her skin was. "_Suo-you de dou shi-dang_, River—" He snatched a blanket from the bottom of the bed and draped it over her huddled form. "Brain like yours, you'd think you'd have sense enough not to freeze."

"Intellect and sense don't always go hand in hand," River whispered, but it was a ghost of her usual humor.

"Might be right, but _you_ got better sense," Mal said. "Honest, though, sweetheart. Why're you in here all by your lonesome? Somethin' happen on that ship you ain't said?" He was wondering, honestly, if she might've killed someone. It was the only thing he could figure might explain her mood.

River shook her head silently, several more tears sliding down her cheeks. "It's not what you think. I didn't kill anyone."

"Then what?"

River turned her eyes back on Mal, and they were dark and haunted. She licked her lips nervously and stretched a hand toward Mal, but faltered, leaving her hand hanging mid-air. Mal met her halfway and took her cold hand between both of his. "I—" Her voice faltered, and then strengthened. "Darkness everywhere. Minds clouded with it, dark, heavy, unforgiving. Dragging me down and drowning me in a sea of corruption."

Mal knew River had to be especially frazzled, if she was starting to talk riddles. Fortunately for him, he was familiar with dialogue of all sorts from her, and thought he had an inkling what she meant. "You been round bad men before," he said quietly.

"Not like this. It was different. Like the Reavers, but conscious. Reavers are what they were made, instinct and madness, but these men walked paths of their own choosing. They _chose_ it. I've been in darkness before, but I don't know…" Her breath hitched, the tears washing steadily down her face now. "I don't understand what could make a man like that." She bowed her head, her tears dripping off her nose and onto her blanket.

Mal sighed and rested one of his hands on the crown of her head, the other still holding her hand. "Can't rightly say I understand it any better, River. Some people just turn out that way."

"They did it for money, but not just for money. They liked what they did." Her voice took on a fierce tone. "I wanted to kill them, Mal. They were all inside my head and I wanted them _dead_."

Mal tried to figure out what to say. The fact that River had wanted to kill anyone was no small admission. She'd killed before, when triggers in her brain made her, and later to save them all from Reavers, but since that time, he hadn't seen her kill a single soul. Fact was, she hated what the Alliance had tried to make her, and the only reason she used their teaching at all was to keep the people she loved safe. He could only imagine some of the things she might've seen in the slavers' minds, if she was admitting to wishing them dead.

"Not just the slavers' minds," she said. She shivered and her hand tightened convulsively in Mal's. "Some of those people will be forever traumatized by it. They don't have the strength of will to move on."

Mal ran his hand over her hair. "Life's hard sometimes. Not everyone's got the courage to face it. I think us on this boat know that more'n some."

River gave a slight nod and closed her eyes. Mal waited a moment, but she didn't seem inclined to say anything more, so he gave her hand a quick pat and released it. "You try and get some rest. You need anythin', you know where to find me." He tucked the blanket snuggly around her shoulders and left her room, sliding the door shut behind him. She had seen some awful things in her lifetime, and had survived far, far worse, so he had little doubt that with some time, those fresh thoughts in her brain would settle a bit and she'd move on.

:-:-:

It soon became apparent that it wasn't going to happen quickly. The last time Mal had seen River anything like this had been when she'd been dealing with the Parliament and Blue Sun battling over the Academy, around a year and a half back. Then, she'd come face-to-face with the dead bodies of some of the 'students' there, and it had taken her quite some time to recover from that. Hell, it'd taken Mal quite some time to recover from the gruesome sights he saw in that place, and he'd had fair more than one nasty dream about what things might've been done to River at the Academy.

River was very quiet and distracted the next few days. Mal found her twice in Simon and Kaylee's bunk, curled up with Simon's pillow. Her brother had always been there to comfort her, and Mal supposed that River was getting comfort where she could. He also noticed her taking one of the meds that Simon had left for her. She still had to take medicine occasionally, when she felt her brain was particularly muddled. No matter how much she had healed, the fact remained that her brain had been changed, and sometimes she needed drugs to stabilize it. But she hadn't taken meds in a while, and it was just another thing that told Mal she wasn't at the top of her game at the moment.

It would have helped if Simon, Kaylee, and their little daughter Ren had been on board. Simon could've probably helped better than Mal, and Kaylee would've just been there to comfort River. And Ren, whose mind River had always found so peaceful despite her very loud vocals, would've lent some soothing to River. It was altogether too quiet without the other Tams around, and Mal started to contemplate calling Simon and Kaylee about coming back early.

River, however, caught that thought from him one day while they were in the cockpit—River staring at the stars and Mal sending a wave to confirm his meeting with Badger the following morning—and quite firmly told him, "No." She said it with more strength than she'd said anything the past days. "Kaylee's parents haven't seen them since Ren was two months old. They deserve some time with her family."

Mal turned and placed his hands on River's console, leaning over it to stare directly at her eyes. "You ain't well."

One eyebrow rose and she copied his inflections. "Ain't really been well for a while."

Mal let out an impatient breath. "You know what I meant."

River waved one hand dismissively, not really focusing her eyes on him. "I'm all right, Mal."

"River, I've seen you in every state most can imagine, and this ain't your 'all right' state."

River looked at him directly now, almost impatiently. "You don't know what's going on in my head, Mal."

"No, but seems you get plenty of looks in mine," Mal replied, standing up and crossing his arms. "So seein' as I can't peek into your brain, why don't you _tell _me what's goin' through it? 'Cause, River—"

"I want to help them."

Mal paused, suddenly a little confused and a lot wary. "Help who?"

"The slaves." River stood to her feet and faced Mal. "I've been thinking and thinking. I can't do anything but think about it. About what I saw. It's in my head all day, all night. Cries, pleas, voices begging for help."

Mal'd had quite a lot of experience with River's psychic abilities, and the way the 'voices' of the dead or the hurt could stay in her head for long periods of time. He understood it, in his own way. He'd heard the dead in his head for months after the battle of Serenity Valley. The screams of the dying, the injured. River had lived through her own personal Serenity Valley during her years at the Academy, and when things like this happened, she revisited it. He thought that besides Zoe, he was probably the only person that could understand that about River. The only difference between him and Zoe was that Zoe lived in the here and now, and forced her way onto the future, while Mal—well, he'd always had a tendency to sink into the past.

So he stood there looking at River, and he knew what she meant. Knew, in a way, how she must be feeling. But still, he really didn't like the direction this conversation was headed. Didn't take psychic abilities to see where River was going. "River, you already helped them people."

"Only a small part. A section of the whole."

"There's always gonna be slavers in this 'verse, darlin', and nothin' you do is gonna change that."

"I don't want to change all of it, Mal," River replied desperately. "This, this I might be able to fix. This isn't random. I saw, in their minds. I saw. This isn't random slavers picking off people; this is the slave ring that the authorities have been after. Someone's running it. Someone's getting rich off of this." She started pacing back and forth in front of her console, arms pinned across her chest. "I saw where they were going. The drop point, on Cassia—it's probably been changed now that the Alliance picked up the slavers on Triumph, but there _was _a drop point. I can—"

Mal moved around the console and took her shoulders, stopping her pacing. "River," he said firmly. "We got a job. We gotta meet with Badger tomorrow morn and transport cargo to Greenleaf. This job'll take a few days to finish, and I need your head in the game."

River's jaw tightened, and she studied him with a sad, almost lost look in her eyes that made Mal want to look away, if only because it tugged at him in a way that had become increasingly familiar of late, for reasons he refused to contemplate. But she only nodded once, slowly. "All right," she said softly.

Mal was a little surprised that she had agreed, just like that. Not that River wasn't generally agreeable, but he had expected to have to do a bit more convincing. He nodded in return, grateful to escape a big ordeal. "All right, then."

:-:-:

Later that night, River again lay curled up in Simon and Kaylee's bunk, wishing that they were here, that Simon could hold her and try to chase her nightmares away. Not that he had ever been able to, but he had tried, her knight in shining armor always wanting to rescue her. River wished she could be rescued now.

Simon's pillow smelled comfortingly like him, and Kaylee's flowery scent was faintly there, too. River held it close and stared at her niece's crib on the other side of the tiny room, but her mind was elsewhere. Back on that ship, with the voices screaming and crying and despairing in her mind.

River knew Mal was coming before she even heard the hatch open. She squeezed her eyes shut and quickly wiped her remaining tears away, trying to compose herself. The truth was, she wanted to do something so badly to help shut down this horrible slaving ring, but she hadn't argued with Mal about it. He was the captain, she was the crew. She might not always agree with everything he did, but she had long chosen to follow under his command, and really, Jayne was mutinous enough for everyone.

"River." River forced herself to focus on Mal, standing at the bottom of the ladder. He watched her for a moment, then sighed. "Fancy havin' a chat?"

River squished Simon's pillow against her stomach and wrapped her arms around it. "All right." Mal's thoughts were muddled, a little confused. He sighed again and ran a hand over his face.

"Been thinkin' 'bout what you were wantin' to do." Mal's gaze turned a little sharper. "You really think you got any chance of trackin' this thing to its root?"

River's eyes widened. "I…I can't say for sure," she admitted. "It might be a dead end now, what I saw in the slavers' minds. But…I have more of a chance than anyone else."

Mal motioned to her, his thoughts—_can't believe I'm even considerin' this—_very clear now. "Why don't you come on and we'll talk some more. 'Cause if this is gonna be on the table at _all, _we're gonna talk details."

Despite all of her precognition and all of her insight, this was the last thing River had expected Mal to say, and she quickly followed him up the ladder and into the cockpit, while he continued, "We still got this job to do, so we do that and then we'll look into this drop point you saw on Cassia—it ain't but a day's flight from Greenleaf. A few days longer ain't gonna make much difference if it's already moved, and even if it did, this job's gotta get done."

One realization was clear. He was offering to do this for _her. _There was no money in it, nothing to make it worth his while, except that she wanted to do it. Needed to do it.

River had always loved Mal, ever since she was lucid enough to understand what he had done for her and Simon, all the incredible—and almost insane, sometimes—lengths he had gone to in order to ensure their safety. She knew she would be in Alliance hands, tortured and twisted, a shell of herself, if it wasn't for this man. River didn't stay on _Serenity _out of gratitude or because she felt she owed Mal something. She stayed because this was her home. Her family. She stayed because Mal had long earned her loyalty. Because—because she loved him. Had loved him for quite some time, and it was more than just love for her captain.

For some reason, she had always thought that falling in love would be different. Like being hit with a bolt of lightning, but it wasn't. It was just…there, a bright, sunny patch in her heart and mind. It had grown there so slowly and surely that now it was not a huge, ground-shaking epiphany, but a deep, quiet ache of longing, one that was impossible to hide from, given that some idiot doctors had stripped her ability to hide from any emotion. When she had first begun to realize it, not so long ago, she hadn't been sure if it was something she was experiencing, or something she was picking up from someone else. Sometimes she was unsure about which was which. However, it hadn't taken long before she knew without a doubt that this was all _her. _

Still, River had made an effort to at least make a pretense of ignoring it, because honestly, it scared her. It amazed her and thrilled her and frightened her to death, and right now, as he talked about doing something _just for her_, it was staring her dead in the face, and it wasn't just being a quiet ache. It was more like it had suddenly decided to start screaming in her ear. She couldn't say anything to Mal; he had never shown any outward sign that he might ever regard her in that way, and River hadn't picked up anything particular in his thoughts about it. She didn't want to risk their friendship. She couldn't lose his approval. It meant too much to her. But it was _so hard_, especially right then, to keep quiet.

Mal must have realized something was wrong, because he stopped talking—River wasn't even sure what he had been saying at that point—and turned concerned regard on her. "River? You all right?"

River took an involuntary step backward, as if moving away from Mal would lessen the sudden intensity of her longing. The cold metal of the floor pressed into her feet, normally a comforting sensation, but now, the cold seemed to seep upward through her body, freezing her to the deck. And still she stared at Mal, who took a step forward and put a hand on her arm. "River?"

River sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes locked on Mal's, a swirl of thoughts crossing her mind, most of them hers. What could she say? 'Thank you' seemed insufficient, and 'I love you, take me I'm yours' was a bit extreme. She knew he loved her, but because she was family, a member of his crew. Right?

"River." Mal repeated her name, trying to get her attention, but she was still frozen, staring at him, her skin burning where Mal touched her arm, the only warm part of her body. He was close, so close, peering down at her with worry in his face.

"I-I'm all right," she managed to stammer. She quickly stepped back again, out of his reach, turning away from him and taking a deep, steadying breath, trying to force her thoughts back into some semblance of sense. Logic, however, did not quiet her suddenly-loud feelings, so when Mal said, "It's late. Why don't you go on and get some sleep, and we'll talk this over with Zoe and Jayne in the mornin'," she was more than happy to hurry away to her bedroom.

With that in her head, on top of the voices of the slaves gamboling through her brain, she had a horrible night's sleep. By the following morning, however, at least the screaming-loud feelings for Mal had settled back down to the quiet simmer they had been before, so when Mal called over the intercom to bring everyone to the dining area, her stomach only leapt _halfway _to her throat at the sound of his voice. Actually seeing him, however, made the butterflies start dancing in her stomach, and she sat tensely on a chair beside Zoe, her hands clasped firmly in her lap, not allowing any of her stray thoughts to betray her on her face.

Mal quickly told Zoe and Jayne the plan to swing by Cassia after their drop at Greenleaf in an attempt to see if River could pick up anything about the gorramed slave ring. Their reactions were quite predictable. Jayne complained loudly about the fact that there "ain't no payin' involved" and demanded to know _why _they were doing it for no pay. Mal just gave him the "because I'm the captain" spiel. Zoe just shot Mal a quick look, one eyebrow going up a bit. She looked quickly between Mal and River, but refrained from saying anything.

Shortly thereafter, they landed on Persephone. Mal left River in charge of the ship while he, Jayne, and Zoe went to their rendezvous with Badger. He gave her a stern look and told her, "Now, don't you go hitchin' no rides nowhere while I'm gone. We'll get to Cassia soon enough."

One corner of River's mouth twitched up in a smile. Mal didn't really believe she would leave. It was funny to her how often people said what they didn't mean. Or how often they didn't say what they meant. Maybe because they, too, were scared that their world would flip on its axis and they would go falling, falling out of control and be lost forever.

"Don't worry," she said softly, as he passed her on the ramp. She watched him walk away with Jayne and Zoe, sighing to herself. "I'm not going anywhere."


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE**

The warehouse on Cassia looked just as River had seen in her memory, and she knew, as soon as she walked into it, that this place had been used more than once in the transportation of slaves. The aura surrounding it was heavy and dark, and the voices were much, much louder here. River instinctively pressed her hands against her ears, but it made no difference at all.

Zoe glanced at her. "Looks like this is the right place," she murmured, correctly interpreting River's reaction.

"Looks empty. Let's see if they mighta left some clue to where they went," Mal said.

River forced her hands off of her ears and looked around the huge building. It did appear quite empty, but that didn't mean that she couldn't find _something _that might help. Anything. "It was just a transfer point," she murmured, spinning slowly in place. "They were brought here and changed hands. Changed ships. First stop in a chain. They were careful, very careful."

"Got any notion where the next stop was? 'Cause that probably wouldn't have changed," Mal said.

River tilted her head to the side and closed her eyes. The voices were so _loud…_ "New Melbourne," she whispered.

"You sure about that?" Mal asked.

"Yes. New Melbourne."

"Well, that might not help much. New Melbourne's a crossin' point for every planet that side of the 'verse." Mal sighed, and through everything else, River heard him thinking about how much time and possibly jobs he could lose if he continued to pursue this. They had enough money from the job with Badger to last them a few weeks, especially as there were only four of them on board right now. Less people to take care of. Then he looked at her for a long moment, and nodded. "Still, might be more evidence there than here."

"Aw, Mal, you can't be serious!" Jayne protested.

Mal looked at him sharply. "You really wanna have this conversation?"

"It don't make no sense! Why're we even _doin' _this?"

"We been over—"

"It ain't never just 'cause you're the captain," Jayne interrupted him.

Mal stared harder. "Don't matter why. I say we're doin' it, and we're doin' it. You wanna get off, feel free."

He said that, but River heard his own thoughts—_why the hell _am_ I doin' this? Got other business to worry on—_but even Jayne arguing with him only served to reinforce his decision to do it. "Let's get back to the ship."

"New Melbourne, hmm?" Zoe said to Mal as they headed back to _Serenity_. "Lots of fish there," she said neutrally.

River barely heard Mal as he muttered under his breath. "Yeah. Lots of fish."

:-:-:

New Melbourne stank of fish. The dock they set down in was surrounded on three sides by water, full of boats—some old-fashioned, floating on the water, and some more hi-tech, hovering above it—but most were full of fishermen. There were big factories built around, processing the fish and preparing it for transport to other worlds. No matter where they went, there was no way to escape the reek of rotting, smelly fish, till River thought if she ever got away from there, she might never eat a fish ever again.

The docking port itself was full of ships and people—people boarding, disembarking, shopping, selling, like any number of worlds River had visited. And like any number of worlds, this one had the same bars—some more reputable, some sleazier. It was to one of the seedy ones that Mal and Jayne headed, one that was on a side of town that wasn't so great. This particular bar also seemed to be a very popular place, so it was likely they could get in and out without calling too much notice to themselves. Five minutes after they'd gone in, Zoe followed, and ten minutes after that, River filtered in on her own.

Even as she stepped through the doors to the low-lit bar, she was taking in the positions of everything in the room—tables, chairs, barkeeps, patrons, calculating length and width of the room, and how long it would take her to move from one side to the other with or without possible obstacles—processing all of it with barely a conscious thought.

Mal and Jayne were slamming back drinks near the bar itself, and Zoe was sitting on the side of the restaurant closest to the window. River placed herself in a dark corner on the opposite side of the room from Zoe, letting the thoughts of the people in the bar filter around and through her.

—_can't tell the wife; how would I explain_—

—_gotta get me some of that_—

—_stuff tastes like _xiong mao niao—

—_hate his guts; might just have to spill them on the ground 'fore long here_—

—_damn fine lookin' woman_—

—_finish this job; boss ain't gonna be happy the quota ain't met_—

River's eyes narrowed, and she tried to find the person thinking that last particular thought. It took a minute, but it turned out he was just worried about the quota for his fishing not being met; nothing to do with slaves.

Mal had struck up a conversation with one of the barkeeps. River listened to that in her mind for a moment—Mal was subtly searching for any knowledge that these people might have of illegal slave trade being moved through New Melbourne.

It was very slow going. They ended up visiting three different bars before River actually got a hint of anything concerning it. There were two men who were having a very quiet conversation in the middle of a very loud bar, but no matter how soft their voices, River had no trouble hearing it all in her head. One man was the seller, of a sort—hunting for mercenaries to carry out the task of collecting slaves for someone else—and the other a prospective new slaver.

In all of two minutes, River had everything she needed, and she clicked her radio twice before standing up and heading out of the bar. She made it back to _Serenity _and punched in the entry code, sitting on the lowered ramp and waiting for the others to show up. Zoe was the first to arrive, followed shortly by Mal and Jayne. Once they were all aboard, River shut the ramp and turned to face the others. "I found one slaver, in that last bar. He's a middleman; he hires the mercenaries and tells them where to go. He gets a portion of the money, but he answers to someone else." She sighed. "Someone on Santo."

:-:-:

Three worlds and one week later, Mal was beginning to feel like he was circling the whole gorram 'verse. It felt like this chain in the slave ring would never end, but honestly, the more difficult it seemed, the more determined he became to see who was at the top.

He knew that Jayne was still wondering as to why they were really doing this. Zoe was doing some other kinds of wondering, he was sure, but Mal didn't have to answer to either one of them, which was a good thing, because he truly didn't know what he would tell them.

He knew that in this 'verse, you took work where you could, but slavery was just crossing too far over the line. No one had a right to steal anyone else's freedom. Maybe that's why he was doing this—because he knew what freedom meant to him, and knew it meant just as much to River. She was doing much better now that they were actually doing something about it. Still seemed a little off, a little jumpy, and Mal caught her giving him some mighty strange looks sometimes, but overall, he was sure this was helping her, which, in turn, helped his boat run more smoothly.

The last world they came to was Olympia. It was right on the edge of the Core—close enough to the inner worlds that Mal would have rather avoided it, but at least the presence of feds wasn't near as bad as places like Ariel or Osiris.

So far, they'd still been tracking middlemen. Whoever ran this whole thing had been extremely careful to keep any particular person from knowing too much. Names, locations—all had been set up so well that Mal doubted anyone _but _a reader like River would have been able to track it, at least very quickly or with very much success.

The last middleman they'd run into, though, had been going to meet someone on Olympia. And not just _anyone _on Olympia, but a dignitary of the state. That had given Mal pause—what the hell a dignitary was doing getting his hands dirty with a slave ring was beyond him. Wasn't like he wasn't already getting a lot of money, working for the government and all.

Problem was, River didn't know _which_ dignitary their middleman was going to meet, because not even the middleman knew. He just knew he was supposed to show up at a big party for lots of government officials and he would be met there.

Which was how Mal ended up in one of his least-favorite covers—on a Core planet, or near enough, at a gorram _party._ He really, truly wished he could've sent Jayne or Zoe to do this, but Jayne wouldn't have been able to pass and Zoe had pointed out—chuckling under her breath—that Mal had far more experience dressing up for fancy balls than she did.

Still, the last couple of times he'd tried to dress himself up all fancible and sneak himself into high society, things had spiraled downhill fast. First with Inara on Persephone and that gorram swordfight, and then with River on Osiris and the whole Academy mess. So he wasn't feeling particularly confident when he showed up at a state dinner. Only reason they got in at all was because of River's ability to hack into a computer and add names—fake ones, of course—into the guest database.

Mal and River both went, but separately. He entered the party first. He was glad to at least get inside. Olympia was one of the colder worlds due to the way the terraforming had gone, and it was freezing outside, with stinging ice and snow whipping across the half of his face visible under his jacket. The fact that this was one of the warmest areas on the planet didn't speak much for the climate in general, and Mal knew he'd be only too happy to light off this world.

There were no guns allowed—this place had one of those shields that detected the weapons—so Mal hadn't even bothered to bring his. The building hosting the event was huge, and the whole of _Serenity _could have fit into the ballroom. Massive columns surrounded the room, supporting the balcony running around the whole of it. The marble floor was cut in specific designs that Mal couldn't make out under the hundreds of feet tromping around on it.

Pulling off his heavy coat, he handed it to the guy taking jackets and received a number in exchange. He made his way quickly to the second floor balcony and picked a position where he could overlook the ballroom below. Around twenty minutes after he'd settled in, he caught sight of River entering. Despite the enormously thick jacket that covered her head and half her face, he knew it was her just from the way she walked.

He watched her take off the coat and hand it off. She was wearing a dress that had been among the clothing left on board when Inara had died, but Mal had never seen Inara wear this dress—maybe because she would have found it too plain. It was just a simple white gown, but on River, it somehow seemed risqué compared to her normal outfits, and Mal found the sight a bit perturbing. The fact that he found it bothersome at all bothered him more, and he almost missed the server asking him if he wanted champagne.

Mal took the proffered glass, more to have something to distract him than anything else, and watched River quickly settling into her role. Before long she was laughing and talking with several dignitaries, playing her part as perfectly as usual. When one of the younger men offered her his arm, River gave him a big smile and allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor.

Mal twirled his glass of champagne in one hand and tried to keep just a casual eye on her, not wanting to draw any undue attention to himself or River. As he watched the man spin River slowly around the ballroom, it occurred to him that he'd been watching an awful lot of men dance with her on various planets lately, and a surge of completely irrational jealousy swept over him. It caught him off guard, and he tried to shake it off. What did he have to be jealous of, especially concerning River?

Still, he kept finding his eyes drawn back to River, and the way the man had his hand on her back. Seeing her so close to that fancy pretty-boy rankled something fierce. And he suddenly thought on holding her close like that, her body pressed against his, feeling her smooth skin under his hand and—

Appalled at the direction of his thoughts, Mal quickly yanked his eyes off of River, jerking around so suddenly that he knocked his glass of champagne over. It shattered on the table, the liquid he hadn't even tasted spilling across it. Mal ignored the _drip, drip _of champagne falling onto the floor, having bigger issues on his mind. What the _hell _was he thinking? River was…well, River. His slightly off-kilter, genius, kick-ass, mind-reading pilot. Hell, she'd been nothing but a little girl when she'd come on his ship, popping out of that cryo chamber all paranoid and naked…

He chopped _that _thought off right there. Rolling his eyes upward, he tried to get a grip on himself, suddenly very, very thankful for the crowd that prevented River from really paying attention to his mind all the way across the room. He couldn't _think _things like that around her; she would pick up on it and then what? He shouldn't even be thinking things like that about her in the first place. He should be thinking on her like any of his crew.

Except that wasn't working, because he was having some _very _un-captainy notions.

But it was _River._

And she wasn't a little girl anymore—hadn't been for quite some time.

That scared Mal more than anything had in a long time.

Mal tried very hard to focus on the task at hand and _not _think about River, who stopped dancing and made her way to the side of the room, where she was offered her a drink of her own. She took it, her eyes flicking around the room and then up to the balcony, passing briefly over Mal's face. She stopped and frowned, and for a moment, Mal was sure she'd overheard some stray thought of his that he shouldn't have been thinking in the first place. But she was frowning at her drink. Very slowly, she set it down and did another survey of the room, a wary expression on her face.

Mal knew that look. He stood to his feet and made his way casually down the stairs, hoping to be close to her if something went wrong, but still maintain his cover.

Of course, that didn't go as planned. When did anything ever go as planned? He was just passing the buffet table, a few feet from River, when she whirled and threw herself at him, knocking him flat to his back on the ground. Mal just had time to process the laser that went flying overhead before River rolled off of him and took on a man twice her size.

Mal pushed himself to his feet. The laser gun—which shouldn't have been able to be here in the first place—was in River's hand now. Without even looking at him, she tossed it over her head straight at him, and Mal caught it reflexively, just as River called, "Left!"

Mal turned left, and sure enough, saw another man pulling out a gun—where were all these weapons coming from? Mal quickly shot his hand before he could get it all of the way out of his holster.

The party wasn't so lively anymore. The guests were yelling and running out of the way of River, who had knocked out the large man and turned to Mal, her eyes wide. "I think we should leave," she said.

Mal saw a group of security guards racing their way, and nodded shortly. "Not my sorta party anyhow. Exit?"

"This way." River spun and ran toward a side door, Mal right on her heels. The door led to a long corridor, and then into another room. The house was a labyrinth of halls and rooms, but River moved with certainty, and pretty soon the sounds of pursuit faded behind them.

River shoved open a back door, and Mal was met with a blast of icy wind and stinging snow. Without their coats, it was going to be a very unpleasant walk to _Serenity._

:-:-:

Twenty minutes later, after River had shut down the security field surrounding the grounds so that they could escape, she and Mal stumbled up _Serenity's_ ramp, and River had never been so grateful for the warmth. Her bare arms and legs felt like popsicles. She collapsed to the floor of the cargo bay as Mal raised the ramp and bellowed, "_Zoe_!"

Zoe appeared not ten seconds later, and her eyebrows went up when she saw their shivering, snow-covered bodies. "Party was that bad, huh?" She moved swiftly to River's side and pulled her to her feet, leading her toward the kitchen.

When River and Mal were both settled in the kitchen common area, wrapped in blankets with steaming mugs in their hands, Zoe and Jayne standing nearby, Mal finally asked the question that had been burning his mind since they'd fled from the ball. "What _happened_ back there?"

"I almost missed it," River whispered. She closed her eyes, remembering how _close _a call it had been, how she hadn't sensed the danger until the very end. She hadn't seen it in the contact's mind, and it had almost cost Mal his life. "Someone drugged my drink. Drugged yours, too, I think."

"Good thing I didn't get a chance to drink it, then," Mal muttered. "But that don't answer the question of _why._"

"I don't know."

"Someone must've recognized you. Or at least known you were comin' this way," Zoe said.

That was plausible. Everything that had been done to River at the Academy was common knowledge around the 'verse now. Her face had been plastered across news waves, and persistent reporters had once spent several months trying to get interviews with her. She knew it was always a risk, being recognized, but the truth was, most people didn't. She was one of nineteen from the Academy. Too many names. Too many faces. They fell into history and people forgot.

But some people had better memories than others. "We could have been recognized on one of the other worlds we visited. Maybe someone knew who we were and alerted the slaving contact here."

"It was risky, tryin' to drug your drink," Mal pointed out.

"I—"

"Wait just a ruttin' minute," Jayne interrupted. "If'n someone here wants y'all dead, why ain't we left yet?"

Mal rubbed a hand over his forehead. "'Cause we _ain't _dead. Seems we were gettin' close."

Jayne was shaking his head. "I been nice and cooperative up till now—" Mal snorted, but Jayne kept on "—but this is gone too far."

Zoe was thinking much the same thing—that they had used up a lot of time and resources pursuing this. But she wouldn't say it, because she followed Mal wherever he went, whatever he said.

Mal closed his eyes tiredly. "Does seem we might've hit a dead end. Lot harder to do anythin' when your cover's blown." His eyes flicked to River, then back to Jayne and Zoe. "We'll talk about it tomorrow, when I've had some time to think it over. Meantime, River, I want to get off this rock, least for a while."

Wrapped in her blanket, River silently got to her feet—which she could finally feel again—and passed Zoe and Jayne, heading for the cockpit, while Jayne picked up his argument again.

It was there, later, that Mal found her. He stopped at the door and looked in at her silently for a moment before moving to his chair and sitting. "What now, River?"

River looked over at him. His mind was in turmoil. On the one hand, she sensed that he didn't want to take this any further—he wanted to wash his hands of it and be done, but on the other, he wanted to see this through, and she realized, not for the first time, how far Mal had come in the past couple of years. There would've been a time when he would have just dropped the pursuit of this and ignored it, but she had watched him slowly and steadily gain a foothold on things he had long thought lost. It was this that kept him going now.

And there was something else, something that she couldn't pinpoint because it was just tickling the edges of Mal's mind. He was trying very hard _not _to think about it, and River didn't pry. Instead, she whispered, "I almost didn't see."

"See what?"

"That you were about to be shot. There were too many people, too many thoughts."

"But you did see it," Mal pointed out.

"What about next time?" she asked. "They know we're in pursuit of this."

"Then if we go after this, we'll have to switch tactics. But I gotta know, River—you see anythin' in that _hun dan's _mind that would give you any clue to who he was workin' for?"

River stared at her console.

"You saw somethin'."

"Mal," River said slowly, "you almost died."

A smile lifted the corner of Mal's mouth. "Not for the first time, and it sure weren't as close a call as some I've had. But you know that; we got a dangerous line of work sometimes."

"But this isn't work," River replied. She pushed her seat around and faced him. "This isn't…this is…" The words she wanted to say weren't coming—she wasn't even sure _what _she wanted to say.

The smile faded from Mal's face and he turned his chair to face hers. "River, you been miles better since we started this."

River couldn't deny that, but it somehow didn't seem enough. "I'll be all right if we stop." She would have to be, wouldn't she?

"Weren't you the one arguin' for this?"

"Yes. And you agreed to do it for me, Mal. For me, I know it, I saw it, I _see _it. To help me." And there was that slippery, elusive muse creeping around the edge's of Mal's mind again.

Mal stood up. "You don't wanna do this no more?"

"Yes. No. I…" River stood up, too, preventing him from moving past her, frustrated at her current lapse in words. "Of course I want to do it," she finally said. "I'm just—" Confused, worried, scared, and to top off her state of mind, Mal was standing _very close _again. She wondered if he knew he had a tendency to do that when talking to people, because it really wasn't helping her right now.

"What did you see? In that man's mind?"

"Not much," River replied. "Just a name. His boss. I didn't recognize it."

"Cross reference it on the cortex, and see what you can find out. Anythin' more, any decisions—we'll talk about it in the mornin'."

River nodded and forced herself to step out of the way. Mal walked past her and down the stairs. Moments later she heard his hatch open, and then close. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and sank back into her chair.

Trying quite unsuccessfully to put Mal and the effect he'd been having on her lately out of her mind, River set to the task of linking to the cortex and looking up the name she'd heard for any information.

What she eventually found surprised her, and she stared at the screen for a long moment. Mal wanted to possibly change tactics…and she thought that she just might have an idea about that.

She'd bring it up in the morning.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR**

When River made her way into the dining room for breakfast, the other three were already there. Zoe and Mal were talking quietly and Jayne was shoving food into his mouth as fast as he could. When they saw her, Mal and Zoe stopped talking and Jayne froze with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. They were all silent for a moment, and then Mal said, "Who are you and what've you done with River?"

River made a face under the thick coat of white makeup she had applied. It made her face feel itchy and wrong. "I had an idea."

"You look like a gorram painted doll," Jayne told her.

"That's the idea," River said, sliding into the chair beside Zoe, her computer pad clutched to her chest.

"I think I'm missin' somethin'," Mal said.

River slid into the seat at the table beside Jayne so she wouldn't have to watch him eat. Unfortunately, her hair was pulled up on top of her head, so she didn't even have her hair to block her from seeing Jayne in her peripheral vision.

Mouth full, Jayne asked, "Does it involve gettin' paid?"

"Yes, actually."

Jayne straightened up, much more interested now. "It's about ruttin' time."

Mal shot Jayne a look that clearly meant he was going to _hear _the plan before agreeing to anything.

River took a deep breath. "The man who shot at us last night—I did some searching on the cortex. I don't think he wasn't the actual contact. He was more of a hired mercenary, bodyguard. So was the other man, the one that you shot at, Mal. Their boss, who I think might be the actual slaving contact on Olympia, was _at _the party. Rina Duncan." River set her computer pad on the table and showed them the picture.

All three of them stared. "It's a woman," Mal finally stated the obvious.

"She works for the interplanetary liaison office. It's her job to help coordinate people and cargo shipped between worlds, and to maintain public relations in the government. And she has access to that house we were at. She could have had the weapons put there before the party so her bodyguards could get them."

"Guess the coordinatin' people and cargo part would come in handy for the slave-trade," Zoe murmured.

"Don't make no sense as to _why _she would want to do it," Mal said. "What benefit could it give her?"

"Could be any number of things," Zoe said. "Blackmail, or some kind of political advantage…"

"Get to the part where you explain why you're dressed up like a gorramed geisha," Mal said.

River beamed at him. "Because that's what I'm going to be."

"Be in _what_?" Mal asked slowly, a note of impatience creeping into his voice.

"Here." River tapped the computer screen and the schematics of a building appeared. "This hotel is on New Canaan. It also happens to be the hotel where Rina Duncan will be staying next week—it's the next trip on her itinerary, and I had to go deep into her personal traveling schedule to find that. It's not listed in the government's itinerary for her, so it's not a political trip. She didn't even use her real name to register at the hotel."

"Maybe somethin' to do with the slavin'," Zoe said.

River nodded. "Maybe. That's what I want to find out." She looked quickly at Mal. "I can do it on my own," she said. "I can make money doing it, and I'll give you all the money. It will pay for—"

Mal held up a hand and cut her off. "River. You ain't explainin' very clear."

"Well, obviously, New Canaan isn't a core planet. They have nice cities, and this is a nice hotel, but it's easy to get in and out of it, which is what you'd need if you were involved in slaving. No ident scans or anything. But the hotel has to hire entertainment, and most hotels commonly hire geishas to do the entertaining. Dancing and singing, storytelling..." River wasn't much of a singer, but the dancing she could definitely pull off, and maybe the storytelling, if she was careful with her words. "If Rina Duncan is on the lookout for me, it's unlikely she would recognize me like this." She'd hardly recognized herself in the mirror. "This way the rest of you will stay safe." She didn't look at Mal while she said this last.

"So you just want us to sit around and wait while you put yourself out there?" Mal demanded.

"Yes."

"Shiny," Jayne said with a grin. "Get paid for takin' a break?"

"Gotta say, I think she might be onto somethin' here. I might not know her if I saw her out in public like this," Zoe said.

"I won't have to be there for long once Rina Duncan shows up, but I do want to go early so I can make some money for us, and to establish some credibility," River said. "Then we can go pick up Simon, Kaylee, and Ren."

Mal sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. The idea of quick money and the possibility of finding out what was going on with this slave ring were too good to pass up, especially with no jobs lined up, and River knew it. "All right," he finally said. "We'll do it."

He seemed almost irritated by his own decision, and he stayed in his seat as Zoe left. River stood up and picked up a napkin. She began wiping her face off, using a pan to see her reflection. Mal didn't say a word until Jayne had finished his breakfast and gone out of the dining room. When River had removed every last bit of makeup and taken her hair down, she turned and walked over to the table, facing Mal, who was watching her with crossed arms.

"You're thinking that I can handle myself, but you don't like the idea of me being there without back-up, especially as a geisha." She smiled gently at him. "It's not what you think. It's a common misconception that geishas are prostitutes. They're only entertainers, Mal. Guild law protects them."

Mal stood to his feet. "Maybe, but ain't no guild law gonna protect you if you're found out, especially as you ain't really a geisha."

"Then I'll just have to make sure I'm not found out."

Mal sighed. "That seems easier said than done lately."

:-:-:

It was only a day's flight to New Canaan, and the crew—well, Zoe and Mal, anyway—did their best to help River prepare for her masquerade. She was limited on white makeup, which was actually part of a face paint set that Kaylee had won at a fair they'd visited some months back. She knew she was going to have to purchase more, and knew that was just more money going to this, but she felt better now, knowing that she was going to pay it back.

River spent most of the time altering some of her clothes to fit the part she was going to play, and altering a few of the outfits still on board from Inara's time on _Serenity_. Most of Inara's belongings had been delivered to her family on Sihnon, but a box of clothes that she had never worn had remained on board, crammed into one corner of the shuttle, and River had been finding a lot of use for these lately.

Mal found her sewing in a chair in the dining room very early the morning they were set to land on New Canaan. "River, it's three in the morning—" all right, very, _very _early "—what are you doin'? I told you I'd get up to do the landin' on New Canaan since you gotta start work today."

"Can't sleep." River refrained from mentioning that she'd been having recurring nightmares involving Mal getting shot in the head with a laser. "You can go back to sleep if you want."

"It's all right. I'm awake enough." Mal headed for the pantry. "Coffee?"

"Sure." River set down her sewing and watched Mal start to make two cups of coffee.

When it was ready and Mal had handed her a cup, he sat down across from her. "So why can't you sleep?"

"The dreams won't let me." River took a sip of the coffee, then looked down at the cup. "It reminds me of Osiris, a little."

Mal's eyebrows went up. "The dreams or the coffee?"

River smiled. "This. Hot drink, late night. I used to make hot chocolate for Simon during med school, when he wasn't at the hospital. He was always up late, studying. He let me stay in his room with him and drink hot chocolate while he studied. I usually fell asleep on the floor, but Simon would move me to his bed and I'd wake up there and he'd be sleeping on his couch…" River trailed off, quickly drinking some more coffee, not really sure why she was telling Mal this.

Mal was watching her. "You ain't never said much about life before the Academy."

"It seems like a different lifetime. It feels like I've lived so many different lives."

Mal took a gulp of coffee without taking his eyes off her. "Sometimes I wonder about you. Seems you oughtta be off doin' somethin' else…you oughtta be in university blowin' people away with your genius, instead of usin' it for capers. Hell, you could be teachin' university."

River shrugged one shoulder. "I did the school thing. Their program was terrible."

Mal's eyes smiled at her. "So I heard."

"Besides, I'm always learning out here. Not bookwork, maybe, but about life." River looked at him over her cup. "That's something, isn't it?"

"I suppose it is." A minute passed, and it wasn't until Mal looked over at her, his eyebrows raised, that River realized she was staring at him.

She quickly turned her eyes back on her cup, a little embarrassed—not about the staring, because she did that all the time without realizing, but about the thoughts that accompanied it right now. She downed the rest of her coffee as fast as she could.

"You got somethin' botherin' you?" Mal asked her.

"I…why would you think that?" she asked quickly. She stood up and took her empty coffee cup toward the sink. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mal set his coffee down, stand, and follow her toward the counter. He waited until she had washed out the cup and dried it, and when she really couldn't put off facing him anymore, she sighed and turned around, unsurprised to find him not more than two feet away. She crossed her arms, pressing back against the sink as far as she could. "I'm _fine, _Mal." That, at least, was the truth.

"Really."

"Yes, really," River said, narrowing her eyes. "I just have a lot on my mind—_and you're not making it any easier,_" she told him agitatedly as he took another step closer.

Mal stopped, frowning. "See? You been actin' all twitchy for the last while. Thought it was just all this slavin' stuff, but I ain't so sure."

River closed her eyes, not trusting herself to keep looking at Mal. Maybe it was the late night. Or the coffee. Or the fact that she was about to leave _Serenity _for over a week. That was it. She was just too tired and all of those nightmares about Mal had terrified her, and it was stupid—he was fine, he hadn't been shot. She was just tired, tired of being close to Mal without being close at all, of nearness that wasn't the nearness she craved.

And she knew she had to get out of here _right now_, except her feet weren't moving, and Mal had put a hand on her shoulder, his worried voice saying, "River?"

River opened her eyes. Mal was watching her with concern, and suddenly, she didn't care what she had thought before, didn't care about all the reasons why she shouldn't do it—she stretched to her tiptoes and touched her lips to Mal's, a little clumsily, as she'd never kissed anyone before. For a moment, he went stiff, but then he was responding, his mouth moving on hers, his arms wrapping around her and pulling her tight to him, and she realized this really wasn't so hard. It was flying, it was melting and burning and she wanted this. She needed this, and so did he—she felt it, heard it. His lonely thoughts entangled with her own, until she wasn't sure which were hers and which were his.

Then, abruptly, he placed his hands on her shoulders and fell back a step. _"Fang zong feng kuang de jie. _River…we can't…this is—" He stopped and took a deep breath, staring at her as if he had never seen her properly. Before she could say anything, Mal withdrew his hands from her shoulders and shoved his hand through his hair.

"Mal…" River whispered. She knew, now, that Mal loved her, too. She could hear it. He had been trying hard not to think about it, to deny it, so that not even she had been able to see it for what it was. And now he was shaken—not only by what she'd done, but by the intensity of his emotions. River had just ripped open the box of everything he had been carefully concealing and thrown its contents all over the place, and he was at a loss as to what to say to her. One very specific thought finally came to the surface—Mal wondering _why _she had kissed him, thinking that maybe she had done it because she had picked up something from him in his mind that had driven her to it.

She was quite happy to shatter that illusion. "I didn't see anything in your mind," she told him. "I didn't know how you felt."

"And you know how I feel now, do you?"

"Yes."

Mal rested his hands behind him on the counter. "River. This ain't…this can't—" …_can't do this so young can't hurt her won't work needs better…_

River's hands clenched against the sudden force of muddled thoughts, and she swallowed. "Not true."

"Now's probably not the best time to be in my head, River."

"I can't help it. Your mind's yelling." A little bolder now that she knew she wasn't alone in her emotions, she took a small step toward him, encouraged when he didn't shirk away. She looked up at him solemnly, and he looked back, his eyes and mind speaking a lot more than his voice.

The tension in the air was so thick that River could almost taste it. Their eyes remained locked, and River honestly didn't know what would have happened had the proximity alert not gone off.

But it did go off, indicating that they had reached New Canaan. "I'll get it," Mal said. He let out a heavy breath and shot River a sideways glance as he turned toward the exit. "This discussion ain't over."

"I didn't think it was." River kept her arms folded across her chest as Mal strode out of the room, and as soon as he was gone, she collapsed into the nearest chair and buried her head in her hands.

:-:-:

Once they landed on New Canaan, there was really no time for River and Mal to discuss anything. Zoe and Jayne got up, and then River had to leave. She had already hacked into the hotel's systems, and according to the schedule she had already created, she was supposed to be there before breakfast at the hotel, which, due to local time, meant she had to go immediately. She disembarked from _Serenity, _which was parked in a desert far outside of town. Mal followed her down the ramp, and they looked at each other for a long moment. "You ready for this?" Mal finally asked.

"Yes," River said quietly. She continued to gaze at him, her hands held tightly behind her back. She wanted to go to him, to be held, to tell him she was going to do it, and she was going to come back to him, to say she knew he loved her, and she loved him, and that things would be so much simpler if they could just _be._

"Right. Well. Best get to it, then."

But she didn't say any of that. Instead, she nodded and turned for the long walk into town. She showed up for her first day of work, much to the confusion of the manager, who said she hadn't recalled hiring a geisha, but the records proved otherwise. With a shrug, she said her assistant manager must have done it and didn't question it again.

River had to stay at the hotel by herself, since they couldn't risk the others being recognized—although one time, a very heavily-veiled woman showed up at the hotel and River recognized Zoe's thoughts under the layers of clothing, so she knew that Mal was still keeping tabs on her.

She mostly stuck to dancing, though she did have a few storytelling sessions, which were always interesting, because she had to watch the order of her words. However, if she did ever get tired and slip into metaphors, the crowd seemed to think it was just part of the style or the tale.

Most of the customers she catered to were men—a long time ago, geishas had mostly performed at male parties, but things had become a lot more liberal concerning the trade over the years. What it had been even fifty years ago was completely different from what it was now. She knew that geishas had originated on Earth-That-Was, and she knew that it was _very _different now from what it had been so many hundreds of years ago, so much different that 'geisha' was really just a word that had survived through the generations.

She got paid very well by the hotel, and by tips from the patrons at the hotel. A good amount, too, as much as they made on most of their jobs and more than some. She kept it under her mattress in her locked room until this was finished and she could go back to _Serenity_.

She felt very confined here, though she knew she could walk away at any time if she really wanted to. She missed the freedom of sailing through the black, going wherever the stars took her. She missed Mal and was frustrated that she had taken a step toward him, but there had been no time to sort any of it out. There wasn't much she could do about it now, though, so she tried hard just to focus on her task at hand.

It was actually the night before Rina Duncan was supposed to arrive that things got interesting. River was out wandering the dining room because the manager wanted her to be a presence, to entertain on a whim if people requested her to.

River knew exactly which people had been at the hotel for a while, which had been there since lunch, and which ones had just arrived. One person in particular caught her attention—a red-haired woman wearing very nondescript clothing sitting in one corner. She looked familiar, but River knew this was the first time she had been at the hotel.

The second time she passed her, she suddenly realized—she had seen this woman at the party on Olympia. She had been one more face in the crowd, but she had _been _there; River was sure of it.

Before River even had a chance to try to glean anything from the woman's mind, one of the waiters carrying dishes to the tables swung by her and pressed a note in her hand. "Someone left that for you in the kitchen," he murmured before he headed off to serve the next table.

River tucked the note into her pocket, and slowly made her way out of the room before she withdrew it and unfolded it. Nothing was written on it except a room number and a time—ten minutes from now—in unfamiliar handwriting.

River considered. Either it was some customer at the hotel under the mistaken impression that she was more than just simple entertainment, or someone had figured out who she was. Either way, she had no idea the intentions of the letter-writer. She finally decided to go, but very cautiously.

The room was on the fourth floor, and River took the stairs to get there, to give herself time to sense any danger, and to give herself room to run or fight—easier to do in the open stairwell than trapped in a lift.

She found the room number and stopped outside of it, still not getting any sense of danger. In fact, when she concentrated on the occupants within the room, she suddenly knew who the woman downstairs was, and what was going on. She hesitated a moment, and then knocked.

The door opened, revealing a man wearing a cowboy hat and raggedy clothes. He nodded at her and stepped aside, allowing her entrance to the room. There were three others inside, one woman and two men, and all of them appeared to be perfectly suitable border folk, except contrary to their simple appearance, there were hi-tech computers and equipment up and running around the room.

And most of them were a little nervous about her presence in the room, because they all knew who she was, which meant they knew just what she was capable of. The man who'd opened the door was the first to speak. "River Tam, in the flesh." He stuck out his hand. "I'm Agent Tristram."

"I know." River crossed her arms without shaking his hand. "You work with the Bureau of Internal Affairs. Your superior is sitting downstairs in the dining room." She looked around the room at the other agents. "You followed me here after the ball on Olympia. Why?"

"You mean you can't—" Tristram cleared his throat. "You can't read it in my mind?"

"You're not thinking about it," River told him. "So, no."

"I think Agent Burnham would prefer to—ah, here she is."

The door to the hotel opened and the red-haired woman from downstairs came in. Tristram nodded at her. "Agent Burnham."

River turned to her, deciding that being upfront would be the best right now. "Why did you follow me here after the ball on Olympia?"

Agent Burnham studied her for a moment. "I believe that you are tracking the same slave ring that we are."

"What makes you think I'm tracking a slave ring at all?"

"Official reports from the slavers caught off of Triumph have circulated through government. The slavers themselves described you and identified you from pictures. There are only so many young women known to travel on a _Firefly_ with the ability to take out more than twenty slavers and hijack their ship. After we received word of this report, one of my agents spotted you on New Melbourne. This might have been coincidence, except that you were at that party on Olympia." Burnham looked at River sharply. "Someone tried to kill you, and your Captain Reynolds, which means you were obviously spotted by someone _besides _my agents—the same someone who tried to put you six feet under at that party. I don't know _why _you're tracking them, but—"

"To shut them down," River said simply.

"I would ask why, but I expect it doesn't matter in the end."

"I expect not," River said. She looked around at all of the other agents, then back at Burnham. "You followed me because you still don't have a suspect in government."

Burnham's eyes narrowed for a moment, and then she nodded shortly. "We—" She nodded at the others in the room "—have been tracking this slave ring for six months, since word reached Internal Affairs that someone in government might be involved. It took me that long to get close enough to finding answers to _be _at that party. And you're correct; I still have no suspect. The men involved in the shooting on Olympia managed to get away before they were identified."

"They were mercenaries, bodyguards," River said, finally relaxing enough to unfold her arms. Now that the subject was being talked about, it all unraveled in their minds, and River could read it easily. They had thought River might know more and followed _Serenity _from Olympia. It had taken them three days to locate her in town—they had found _Serenity _parked outside of town and kept an eye on it, tracking Zoe to the hotel when she had come to check up on River. It hadn't been that difficult, afterwards, for them to realize that River must be the geisha. "You want to know if I found the name you've been looking for."

"Yes. You managed to do in less than two weeks what it took us half a year to complete. More, actually, because you seem to be a step ahead of us."

River took a deep breath, her feelings mixed. "You know, I've never had much luck working with the Alliance. Ever."

Burnham sighed. "I appreciate your history with the Alliance. I assure you I want nothing more than to simply put this slave ring out of commission, which I trust you can see is the truth."

River nodded once. She could tell that this was the absolute truth—she didn't sense any hidden motivations or lies.

"I would much prefer my investigation _not _be compromised by yours, because though you may not have invested much time in this, I certainly have."

"You're not trying to stop my investigation," River said, finding that a bit of an oddity.

Burnham gave a very small, very wry smile. "Miss Tam, I have seen the aftermath of what happens to people who stand in your way when you are intent on a goal. No. I am only asking for your assistance. We have, after all, the same end goal, do we not?"

River thought about it, and honestly, she still wasn't sure about Rina Duncan—wasn't sure what her involvement was with the slavers, or her reasons behind anything, and until she knew, she wasn't just going to give her hypotheses to these people, no matter how well intentioned. "Maybe, but I'm _very _close to my goal _here, _and I really don't want _that_ compromised. I'm not going to promise anything, not until I know more about the person I came to find." River stepped around Burnham and opened the door. "If you'll excuse me, I have somewhere I'm supposed to be."


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE**

The week following River's departure was very long and slow for Mal. Sitting still in one place for so long was making him terribly itchy to get out and _do _something, but he was stuck here on this dustball moon with nothing to do but think. He hadn't decided if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but he sure had a lot going through his mind, most of it about River.

She had unnerved and exhilarated the hell out of him, and Mal might have been a lot of things, but he knew it was pointless to try to argue what was staring him straight in the face.

Didn't mean he couldn't take issue with it. He kept telling himself every reason why he couldn't—shouldn't—be with River. He had no right to have her like that. He was the _captain, _and he should have been acting like one. Still, all the reasoning in the 'verse didn't do him a lick of good, because this wasn't _reasonable._

And what had River been thinking? _That _was a question that burned at Mal's mind. She'd said she hadn't known how he felt, and since River had never lied to him, Mal trusted her word—which only left him asking _why_. Why had she done it? For love? River'd never had a beau of any sort; her teenage years had been spent being tortured or running from her torturers, mostly. What had made her sweet on _him, _of all people?

Fortunately, there were only two people on his boat at the moment, and one of them had a head thicker than the bulkhead. Zoe, on the other hand, noticed his brooding, and the day after he'd sent her out to see how River was getting along, she pointedly told him, "She'll be fine."

Mal shot her a look. "Who said I was worried about River?"

Zoe gave him one of her _looks _and raised her eyebrows at him. "She's a fighter. Doesn't give up easy on nothin'." And when Zoe walked away, Mal had a very sinking suspicion that there had been a double meaning in that.

Things got a mite more interesting when a wave came in from Simon. Mal answered the call and knew he was in for the long haul when Simon said, "Can I speak to River?"

Mal crossed his arms. "She ain't here just now."

Simon's eyes narrowed slightly. "Not there? Where is she?"

"Out on a job, of a sort," Mal said.

"Of a sort," Simon echoed.

"You gonna repeat everythin' comes out of my mouth? She ain't here, doc. You need somethin' or you just look to chat?"

"I was just calling to say hello. Is River all right?"

As Zoe had just reported her to be fine, Mal thought it safe to say just that. "She's fine. She'll be back on board in a few days, and then we'll be comin' for you. I'll have her send you a wave soon as she can." Without giving Simon time to argue, Mal cut off the wave and sank back into his seat. Simon was another headache in all of his thinking on River, for more reasons than he wanted to contemplate. He had enough to deal with—forget Simon; he still didn't even know what he was going to say to River when she came back to the ship. How was he supposed to tell her all the reasons this couldn't be when he wasn't even sure he believed it himself?

The day that Rina Duncan was supposed to arrive finally dawned, and Mal was grateful. She was set to arrive mid-morning at the hotel, according to the schedule River had left, and with any luck, River would be able to find out what she needed to and be back on board by supper.

Of course, their luck wasn't always the best, just like the job didn't always go smooth. This time was no exception. Shortly into the afternoon, Zoe called him up to the bridge, saying there was a wave for him. From her tone, he knew something was wrong, and hightailed it to the cockpit.

A slight, dark-haired woman was on the screen, and she wasted no time in getting straight to the point. "Captain Reynolds? My name is Laurel Ishida; I'm an agent with the Bureau of Internal Affairs."

Alliance. _Shiny_. "What do you want?"

"River Tam has been shot."

It was amazing the effect those five words had on him. Mal gripped the console tightly and asked, "Is she alive?"

"For now. She was taken to the med-center in the city."

Mal whirled on Zoe. "Prep the mule, _now_."

:-:-:

River was present in the lobby, cashing in her credit tips from breakfast at the register, when Rina Duncan arrived. She usually cashed them at the end of the day, but she was hoping to be gone by then.

She hadn't been sure what she had been expecting, but Duncan looked less like an Alliance politician than any River had ever seen. Of course, she was likely dressed the way she was so that she wouldn't draw attention to herself on this Outer Rim world. A gray-haired, stern-faced woman in plain, homespun clothing, she looked like she could be a rancher's wife. She definitely didn't look like someone who could have helped enslave people and ordered the murders of Mal and River, but River knew better than anyone that appearances could be deceiving.

With her was a man dressed in rough clothes—a bodyguard, only one, and not one of the ones that had been at the party. Having only one bodyguard was also unusual for most politicians, but again better for traveling unobtrusively.

River didn't get anything from Duncan's thoughts in the lobby except that the woman was tired, had traveled a long way, and wanted to rest before her meeting. So at least River knew there was going to be a meeting. She might have tried to glean more from Duncan's mind as she disappeared upstairs with her suitcase, but she was distracted when the manager came over to talk to her about her afternoon performance.

When lunchtime rolled around, three of the feds made an appearance in the dining room. Agent Burnham and Agent Tristram sat together, and the other woman, Agent Ishida, sat alone near the door. River could feel the feds' eyes on her as she went through another mundane dance performance, not even thinking about the motion of her feet, but instead focusing on the waves of thought patterns assailing her from all over the room.

It wasn't long before River noticed a woman walk into the dining room. She sat in a chair near the door and kept glancing furtively around, every bit of her posture speaking of nervousness. Her thoughts were very disjointed and unclear, but River caught one name in the clutter, which she immediately recognized as Rina Duncan's alias on this world.

So it wasn't terribly surprising when Rina Duncan herself appeared and slid into the table opposite of the strange woman, while her bodyguard sat at the table across from them. By that time, River had edged her way over to that side of the room, where she could hear the conversation with her ears and not just her mind, because it took less concentration.

The woman—_Sarah Elliot, rancher, four children, widowed this month when her husband died in an accident off-world—_sounded just as anxious as she looked when she spoke. "You said you might know somethin' that could help me?" The reason for her unease suddenly became quite clear as an onslaught of images struck River. Late night, house invaded, men yelling, wanting something, something that Sarah didn't have and didn't know, and children screaming _Mama Mama help me Mama please,_ and then the intruders were gone, and so was her eight-year-old, taken away by the strangers.

"I knew your husband," Duncan said quietly, glancing subtly around. She paid little heed to River, standing in the corner with her head down, trying to keep quiet against everything just deposited in her brain. "We had business dealings."

"My husband had lots of business dealings," Sarah replied.

"I'm sure he did," Rina Duncan replied wryly. She rested her chin on her fingertips. "Mrs. Elliot, didn't you ever find it unusual that your husband went off-world for business trips?"

More than a little uncomfortable now, Sarah shifted in her chair. "Well, my daddy done left me the ranch when he died. Ollie, he never did want much to do with ranchin', so I mostly saw to it, what with the hands we hired on." She was silent for a moment, and then she said pleadingly, "Your message said you might know somethin' about my little girl?" There was so much emotion inside of this woman, and River felt it all—guilt, anger, desperation, fear—terrible, horrible fear. Her thoughts were so strong that it was harder to pick out Rina Duncan's, which were vague and subtle and shifty.

"I saw your husband just before he died," Duncan said in a low voice. "He told me that some people were angry with him; that they thought he'd cheated them on a deal."

"Ollie never cheated no one," Sarah said stoutly, though in her mind she wasn't so sure. Her husband hadn't spoken much of his work bringing trade in and out of New Canaan.

"Well, these men believed he had something of theirs. When I heard your daughter was kidnapped, of course I immediately thought of these men." Finally, Duncan's thoughts were beginning to have a bit more clarity, and River didn't like the implications of what she was seeing. "Did Ollie mention anything to you during his last trip? Send any messages home, or—"

Sarah was shaking her head. "I ain't got nothin', else I would've given it to them. I'd give them whatever they wanted, if only they'd give me Savannah back." Her voice broke. "Is that all? You don't got any notion who the men were?"

Yes, she did, River saw. Rina Duncan knew exactly who the men were, because she had been the one that sent them to Sarah's ranch to take little Savannah away. Why? River's whole body was tense as she concentrated as hard as she could upon Duncan's thoughts, hoping that something would rise to the surface, that she would be able to finally figure out what all of this meant.

Hostage. They had taken one of Sarah's children hostage so that if she _did _have what they were looking for, she wouldn't think to use it. To use—evidence.

Evidence of Rina Duncan's association to the slave ring. Evidence of deals made and silence kept, so that the Alliance's empire could run smoothly.

River was reeling from the impact of a great deal of sudden insights, and it took her too long to realize that Rina Duncan never meant Sarah to walk out of here. Never meant her daughter to be returned to her. Was quite willing to kill in order to protect this secret, and would take no chances about Sarah ever finding out how her husband Ollie had really died.

River noticed the thoughts of Duncan's bodyguard too late. He was already cocking the gun hidden under his jacket, and River lurched forward, screaming, _"Gun!" _She grabbed Sarah Elliot, swinging them both around at the exact moment the gun went off. No matter how much River knew it was coming, how fast her reflexes were, she had no time to move out of the way. The bullet pierced her back, burning into her, and she toppled to the ground on top of a stunned Sarah. She heard a voice yelling, "Federal officer! Freeze and put your gun _on the ground_," but it seemed very faint and far away.

Agent Ishida's face came into view, and she carefully moved River off of Sarah, lying her flat on her stomach. River heard her clothes being torn away from her back, and the low hiss Ishida gave when she saw the damage. She looked up and spoke to someone River couldn't see. "We've got to get her to a hospital."

Guests at the hotel were panicking, and Sarah Elliot was still crouched on the ground in front of River, looking stunned.

"Mal," River whispered. Her brain was starting to get a little muddled, a little fuzzy, and the searing pain in her back was starting to feel strangely numb. She found the strength to grab Ishida's arm. "Tell him. Have to help. Get Sarah and her children somewhere safe. They can't stay—too dangerous."

Sarah started at the sound of her name, and Ishida only looked confused. "Who's Sarah? River! Who's Sarah?"

"I-I am," Sarah stammered. "But—"

"Tell Mal," River mumbled, and then the world swirled and faded to black.

:-:-:

"Captain Reynolds."

Outside the operating room in the city's small med-center—not quite a hospital, but a little more than a doctor's office—Mal and Zoe were greeted by a woman with red hair, and beside her stood Agent Ishida. Ishida, he noticed, had a spattering of blood on her shirt, but she didn't seem to be hurt at all. It suddenly jolted him that it was probably River's blood, and that left his head feeling all spinny.

"Where is she?" Mal demanded. He had loads of questions, but they could wait till he knew if River was all right.

"She's in surgery," Ishida told him. "She was shot in the back—it looked pretty nasty…" She trailed off at the smoldering look on Mal's face, and the red-haired woman quickly stepped in.

"I'm Kari Burnham, the agent in charge of the investigation here."

"What investigation?" Mal asked through clenched teeth. "What the hell are gorram Alliance agents doin' on this rock, and what have you got to do with River? If you're the ones that caused this—"

"I assure you, we did nothing to harm River," Burnham said.

"How did you know who River was? How'd you even know we were here?" Zoe asked.

Burnham and Ishida exchanged glances, and then Burnham sighed. "That's a long story."

Mal crossed his arms. "I got nothin' but time here."

"I'm afraid I only know pieces." Burnham quickly explained how she and four of her agents had followed them from Olympia, and then tracked Zoe to the hotel. "We spoke to River last night, but she wouldn't tell us exactly what she was doing at the hotel. We believed she had found the next step in this slave ring, and judging from what happened, I'd say we were right." She folded her arms across her chest. "Everything just—exploded. One second, River was fine, and the next she was screaming about a gun. She took the bullet that was meant for some woman—"

"Sarah Elliot," Ishida interjected.

Mal shook his head, the name not meaning anything to him. "Who?"

"Mrs. Elliot was having lunch with—" Ishida pulled out a computer pad and looked at it "—Elle Burgess, and—" She trailed off at the look on Mal's face. "You know that name?"

Elle Burgess—Rina Duncan's alias. "Do you know what happened to her? This Burgess?"

"She slipped out of the hotel in the mayhem. We haven't been able to locate her, though we do have the gunman in custody. As of yet, we've been unable to identify him," Burnham said. "I'm about to go question him."

Mal muttered several curses in English and Chinese. "What about this Sarah Elliot?"

"Just after River was shot, she said to tell you to help—that Mrs. Elliot and her children had to be moved somewhere safe."

"Where is she now?" Zoe asked.

"One of my agents has moved her and her children to our ship, until we have a better understanding of what's going on," Burnham said.

Mal pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to piece it together in his mind. River had taken a bullet for a woman meeting with Rina Duncan, a woman she had obviously seen was in danger. And though it seemed these two agents were being truthful—and they had brought River to the med-center, which at least gave them a small edge in their favor—he had been lied to by the Alliance far too many times to just accept what they said completely. The only way to know exactly what was going on was to talk to River. If she came through this.

_God, oh, God. _He'd spent the whole gorram week trying to figure out how he should and shouldn't be dealing with her, and he hadn't really stopped to think that he might not even get a chance to figure it out. To see her again. She'd come through a lot—been shot in the arm once, stabbed, been bruised and bloodied, but none of it had ever been life-threatening. And despite all he knew about how quickly someone could be taken away, how fleeting life could truly be, for some reason he'd come to depend on the idea that River _always came back_. Times when anyone else would have fallen, she stood.

He had let go of a lot of things in his life—been forced to let go of them. The war for independence. Book. Wash. Inara.

He wasn't ready to lose River.

Which was why, though he still doubted, he prayed, like he had never prayed before, that if God Almighty truly did exist and care even half a whit, He wouldn't take River from him.

Taking a deep breath, Mal pulled Zoe to the side. "I want you to go back to the ship. I want you and Jayne to go pick up Simon and Kaylee—might need the doc on hand; don't know how these border-world medics are." And as much as _that_ wasn't going to be a fun reunion, Mal had a lot more faith in Simon's medical abilities than any other doctor around. Of course, considering it would take twenty-four hours, round trip, to collect Simon, River was likely to either be out of the woods or…

"You be all right here?" Zoe asked, flicking a glance back at the agents.

Mal chopped a nod. "I'll keep an eye on the situation here. Just get them and get back, fast as you can."

Zoe nodded and strode for the door. Burnham left, as well, to question to shooter, while Ishida stayed behind—to keep an eye on him, or River, maybe, but Mal didn't care, as long as she didn't go asking him questions right now. Which, to her credit, she didn't.

It was a good few hours before a doctor stepped into the waiting room and glanced around. "River Tam?"

Mal stood. "How is she?" he asked roughly.

"Stable," the doctor replied. "We were able to stop her internal bleeding. She'll be all right. We've moved her to the recovery ward."

Relief sank onto Mal like one of Jayne's weights, and the great knot that had twisted up his stomach loosened slightly. "I want to see her."

"It might be best to—"

"I want to see her," Mal repeated, his tone giving the doctor no room for arguments.

The doctor studied him a moment, then nodded reluctantly. "Follow me." He led Mal to a small room. River was in the bed, propped on her side. Her hair was messy and half tied up, and someone had washed most of the white paint off of her face, but Mal could still see traces of it. She was pale as anything, and had a tube running into her nose and IV in her arm, but seeing her lying there, _alive, _she was beautiful.

Mal stopped beside her bed and carefully covered one of her hands with his. To his surprise, her eyes flickered open, though they were dull and unfocused. She blinked at him, a confused expression crossing her face. "Mal?"

"Hey, there. Got yourself in quite the mess here, didn't you?"

"What…" River swallowed, and her forehead creased. "I got shot."

"I noticed that."

"Too crowded. Always too crowded. Is she all right?"

For a moment, Mal wasn't sure if River was referring to herself in the third person or talking about the woman she'd saved. "You mean your Sarah Elliot? Fine and dandy, accordin' to them Alliance agents."

"Safe. Keep her safe," River whispered. "She's the key; just have to find the lock."

"The key to what, _ai ren_?"

"Stopping it. Stopping…" But her eyes drifted closed, and she didn't finish her thought.

Mal stood there for a long moment, her small hand in his, and he turned his eyes heavenward and muttered, "That's one point in your favor."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Thanks to my mom, who's an RN, for medical advice. Any errors are my fault. ;)

* * *

**CHAPTER SIX**

The next time River opened her eyes, her mind was a lot clearer. The first time, seeing Mal's face hovering above hers, had felt very dreamlike. It took her eyes a moment to adjust; it was nighttime and very dark in the room. One thing that had not changed was Mal's presence. He was asleep, slouched in a chair beside her bed, looking quite uncomfortable. She watched him for a long moment, assessing her body and the entire situation. Her back felt numb—no doubt due to a local anesthetic of some sort—and the IV was still running into her arm, but the tube was no longer in her nose.

She had a dozen questions that she wanted answered. Obviously, her cover had been blown. Again. And Mal had met the feds—he had mentioned them before she passed out last time, and she had seen it in his mind. He had questioned their word, but he hadn't hesitated in coming. He'd just come very, very cautiously, fearing it was just a trap in which River had been caught. He'd had Jayne hidden as back-up, but he hadn't needed it, because for once, the Alliance had been truthful with him.

"Mal." Her voice sounded hoarse to her own ears, and she cleared her throat to try again, but Mal's eyes had already snapped open, and he quickly leaned forward.

"Hey. How you feelin'?"

"All right. Mal…" Something had changed. Despite everything going on, despite everything River knew needed to be done, she couldn't help but notice that something in Mal's eyes was different—just the way he looked at her. She swallowed a sudden lump in her throat, and focused on business. There would be time for other things later. "Where is Sarah Elliot?"

"That Agent Burnham's got her and her kids on their boat, or so she says. Got all mighty determined to keep her safe, just on your word. I'm thinkin' it sounds the truth, first 'cause you didn't do no protestin' when I mentioned them last time you came round, and second 'cause her team ain't taken off—she's got one fed sitting here at the med-center waitin' on you."

"They're all right," River said. "The feds. They didn't lie to me about their investigation. They wanted my help."

"River, who is Sarah Elliot?"

River closed her eyes, her mind swarming with all of the memories she had seen, memories that weren't hers—memories from Sarah Elliot and Rina Duncan, mixing together and filling in the pieces of each other's knowledge. "She's a rancher. Her husband—Mal, she thought her husband was just a legitimate tradesman, but he got into an armload of debt and didn't tell Sarah. Debtors were going to claim the ranch, the ranch her daddy left her." Talking was making River very tired, and she closed her eyes for a moment.

"So he got into slavin' to pay off the debt."

River opened her eyes and nodded slightly. "Yes. He didn't realize everything he was getting into. He wanted to get out. He found out about Rina Duncan, found out what she's doing. He got evidence. Proof to show the 'verse. He was murdered for it, killed by others, but the evidence was missing."

"What evidence?"

"I don't know. I didn't see that. Rina Duncan knew, but I didn't see. She's been trying to track it down. Not just for her, for the Alliance." River felt a twinge start in her back—the medicine seemed to be wearing off. "Too much," she managed. She took a deep breath. "She sent other slavers who had worked with Ollie—Sarah's husband—to her house last week, looking for the evidence. She thought maybe Ollie had sent it home. But Sarah didn't know. Didn't know anything. They took Savannah from her."

"Who's Savannah?" Mal asked quietly.

River blinked against the image of a bright-eyed, freckle-faced little girl. "Her daughter."

"So they took her daughter for what? Blackmail?"

"Yes." River looked Mal in the eye. "I know what Rina Duncan has been doing, and why." Her back was really starting to ache now, but she pressed on, needing Mal to know this. Needing someone besides her to know. "The Alliance has had a hard time maintaining control of the border worlds in the past few years."

"That, we know," Mal said. "Shot themselves in the foot one too many times."

"There are some very powerful people out on these border worlds—they need people to do the work. There's a lot of dangerous work out here. There are a lot of things to make you sick. Hard labor."

Mal's eyes narrowed, catching onto the idea. "Slaves."

"Slaves," River agreed. "They wanted slaves, because they couldn't afford all the workers. Some worlds, they can get away with it. They can just pay the bare minimum to workers, or nothing at all, because no one looks too closely. But some worlds…can't. Doesn't succeed, or too much trouble."

"Let me guess. Rina Duncan made things go smooth, bein' that she coordinates shippin' between worlds."

"Yes. In exchange for cooperation and control of some of the border worlds. It keeps them under the Alliance's thumb. I just can't prove it. Ollie Elliot…maybe he knew someone was after him. He had to have put the proof somewhere. Somewhere that someone could find it. Duncan was positive it had to be with Sarah."

"We'll worry on that once you're better," Mal said, eyes narrowing as he noticed her sudden wince. "You hurtin'?"

"A little," River admitted. "Feels like I got shot in the back."

"Funny," Mal said dryly. He stood up and stretched. "I'll get them doctors to give you somethin' for it."

The doctor did give her something for it, and something to make her sleep. She protested that. "I just woke up!" but the doctor told her, "Rest makes for faster recovery time. Sleep is good on the body."

"You sound like my brother," River grumbled, and she saw Mal suppress a smile.

"Then your brother is a very smart man," the doctor told her as he injected her IV with medicine.

River was out before she had time to answer him.

:-:-:

Despite River's assurances that the feds were on their side, Mal didn't think he was going to ever trust them. However, when Burnham came back to the med-center and got around to asking the questions he'd known were coming, he considered her very carefully. "You got a seriously screwed up government."

"Some of it," Burnham admitted. "Though I suppose you and your crew have seen more of that side than anything else." She pursed her lips. "Sarah Elliot has been asking questions, and I honestly have no idea what to tell her. I have no idea why she and her children are on my ship, Captain, or who she was meeting with that day, though you certainly seem to know. I got absolutely nowhere in my questioning of the shooter, and I just got a message that he's _dead_. Poisoned, by the look of it, which means that someone got to him."

Rina Duncan, no doubt. Who knew how many people here she had under her thumb? It took one cold-hearted _hun dan _to go around ordering all these deaths, including that of her own bodyguard, if she was truly responsible.

After a long moment, Mal finally decided to give her something, least till he could think it over some more. Really, her own cover and that of her agents had been compromised because she'd chosen to help River. "I hope you got your ship locked up tight—and I wouldn't put it past these people to try somethin' to your boat."

"Trust me, we've already considered that. We're orbiting this moon—I figure it's safer in the air." Burnham stared hard at Mal. "I would ask River these questions, obviously, but she isn't doing much talking just now." She seemed to struggle with herself, and then sighed. "I'm at a dead end, Captain Reynolds. Anything you could tell me would be a great help."

_Humility from a fed. Who woulda thunk it? _"Seems Sarah Elliot's husband was a slaver," Mal finally said, figuring this much couldn't hurt. "But she still don't know it. Got himself into trouble with some people who wanted to keep him quiet about their parts in this slave ring—like one of your politicians. Did Sarah tell you her daughter was kidnapped?"

"Yes. She said she was meeting someone—" Understanding dawned on Burnham's face. "She met with the kidnapper?"

"In a fashion. Your politician's lookin' for some sort of evidence Sarah's husband seems to have hid. Thought she must have it."

"_Wang ba dan de biao zi_," Burnham cursed, and despite himself, Mal almost smiled. For half a second there, she'd sounded like a normal human being. "Which politician?"

Before Mal could decide if it was in his best interest to answer that, Burnham held up a finger and pressed her finger to the transceiver in her ear. "Go ahead." She listened for a moment, and then her eyes narrowed. "Thank you. See if you can find out where she's scheduled to be next." She looked at Mal. "Security feed at the hotel got a match on the woman meeting with Sarah Elliot. Rina Duncan, interplanetary liaison office."

"Well. Guess you don't need my help after all."

While Burnham walked off, talking into her transceiver, Mal made his way back to River's room. He found one of the medical assistants in there, lifting the bed so that River, who was awake again, could sit up. Mal stood to the side until he was gone, and then walked over. River's gaze fixed steadily on him, and she didn't say anything even when he was standing right next to her bed; she simply watched him with those darkly intense eyes of hers.

"I see you," she said softly, and he knew she didn't mean the way she was looking at him. A slight frown creased her face, and she reached out a hand toward him.

Mal hesitated, as if taking her hand, as he'd done innocently so many times before, would pull him into something that he would never be able to turn back from. Never want to turn back from.

"You're still fighting," River said unhappily, without moving her hand. "You're making it more complicated than it is. You're worried. Worried I don't really want this, want you. That it's only because I'm on _Serenity, _not around anyone else or I would have chosen someone different. That's a contradiction."

Mal raised his eyebrows. "What's a contradiction?"

"You're not around anyone else except the crew, either," River said pointedly.

Mal heaved an impatient breath. "That's different."

"You're covering. You're afraid."

Mal wanted to object to that, but found he really couldn't. Truth was, the strength of what he felt for River terrified him. "River…this ain't—you deserve to have and hold, and—" And he'd never been the marrying type. If he was honest with himself, he would have to admit that for the first time in his life, he'd actually had a notion or two about giving up his bachelorhood, which spoke volumes about this whole situation, but which also made him feel like he'd lost his footing and everything he thought he'd known for certain about himself. "This is what I am. Flyin' _Serenity,_ that's what I got."

Of course, River could see right through him, and she gave him a look that told him just that. "It's what I've got, too," she replied. "I'm not looking for anything different. I had plenty of chances to leave. I never wanted to."

"For now," Mal said, vocalizing what he hadn't been able to put to words in his own head. "River—you got your whole life ahead of you. Might come a day you'll wake up and decide you don't wanna be doin' this no more. It ain't an easy life."

"Well, damn. Someone should have told me that before I signed on," River said, and it actually startled a smile out of him. It was also her not-so-subtle way of telling him that she thought he was being an idiot.

And with that, the tension in the air broke, and Mal finally reached back and grasped River's hand in his. "You're a crazy woman, River Tam."

River laced her fingers through his, her eyes dancing, and she carefully, almost tentatively, moved her other hand to his face, tracing over his jaw and running her fingers over his mouth before settling her palm on his cheek. "You love me anyway."

Their eyes locked, and River's smile faded as she waited. Waited for him, for an admission that was not an easy one for Mal to make. "Yeah," he said after a long moment. "I do."

River moved her hand from his cheek to the back of his neck, gently pulling him down until his face was level with hers. "Say it," she whispered. "Please."

Several things flashed through Mal's mind at that moment—everything Simon was going to do to him, all the trials that would still surely come their way, but it all seemed unimportant when he looked at River. He was under no illusions about happily-ever-after, but maybe—just maybe—this could be a bit of brightness in lives that had been to some very dark places. If he let it.

"River, _meili, wo ai ni_."

River smiled and leaned her forehead against his. He kissed her once on the lips, gently, mindful of her injury, then kissed her forehead and straightened.

River pressed her face into him; he could feel her warm breath against his stomach. He heard a telltale sniff, and realized she was crying when he felt his shirt getting damp. "I'm fine," she said, before he could ask. "I'm just so happy."

:-:-:

A short while later, Simon and Kaylee arrived at the hospital, having left Ren on _Serenity _with Zoe. Mal stood up from his seat as soon as they came in. Simon gave him one single look of blazing anger—which, River knew, stemmed from her injury and how she had received it—but he was more concerned with her state of being, and hurried to her side.

"River," Simon said, his voice full of relief. "How are you feeling?" He laid his wrist to her forehead, and River rolled her eyes a little at him. He was so anxious, and she heard his mind already running over the list of things he wanted to check to see if the doctors had been doing right.

"I'm fine," River told him gently. "They patched me up." She wrapped her arms around his waist, closing her eyes and breathing in the familiar, comforting smell of him.

Simon hugged her back, warm and solid and so determined to be there for her, like always. When Kaylee came over to claim a hug of her own, Simon moved to pick up her chart, scanning it and immediately making a disapproving face. "They're giving you hydroxin?"

River resigned herself to a thorough exam by Simon, because she knew he wouldn't be satisfied otherwise, while Mal slipped out of the room. Kaylee sat in the chair beside her bed and held her hand while Simon checked her back and lowered the dosage of drugs being pumped into her IV, outwardly completely professional, but inside still a mix of emotions. River watched him quietly. "It was my idea," she finally said.

Simon looked up from her chart. "_Shen me_?"

"Chasing the slave ring, working at the hotel. It was my idea. I got myself shot, Simon. It wasn't Mal's fault."

Kaylee squeezed her hand. "'Course it wasn't," she said reassuringly. She turned her gaze on Simon's. "'Cause it _wasn't._ Simon."

"He's the _captain, _as he's so often pointed out," Simon said, his expression cold. "He shouldn't be—"

But whatever Mal shouldn't have been doing was left unsaid—at least out loud—when the doctor walked through the door to check on River.

"I'll take it from here, thank you," Simon told him.

The doctor's eyebrows went up. "And just who are you?"

"Dr. Simon Tam," Simon replied, turning his back on the doctor and marking something on River's chart.

"My brother," River explained.

"Ah. The smart one. I see." The doctor sounded very unconvinced. "Well, doctor you may be, but you don't work here, and so you have no authority over our patients."

The look Simon gave the doctor was worse than the one he had given Mal. "You don't need to worry about that. I'm checking her out."

For that, at least, River was thankful—she would much rather be recovering on _Serenity _under her brother's care, hovering though it might be, than here. She was tired of being here, tired of being grounded, and the med-center was making her more anxious than she would admit. The smell of antiseptic, the beep of machines…it was hard enough visiting Simon's infirmary on _Serenity, _where she knew things were safe.

And she wanted to see Sarah Elliot, which might happen if they could meet up with the feds' vessel in space. There were still things that she needed to do, injured or not.

An hour later, Simon had signed River out of the hospital, and he and Kaylee helped her into a wheelchair, then brought her down to Mal, who was driving the mule. Simon carefully tucked her into one of the back seats, and then they were off. River closed her eyes against the wind whipping in her face, listening to the quiet thoughts of her three companions. Mal and Simon were both thinking about her, albeit in different ways. River still wasn't quite sure how she was going to break the news to Simon about the newly-developed situation with Mal without it causing too much drama.

She needed to be the one to do it, to be honest with Simon about her feelings, because she and Simon were always, always honest with each other. She wouldn't compromise her relationship with her brother for anything. Simon, who had given up everything for her, who would always give up everything for her, and who never gave up _on _her. If anyone could bring some sort of understanding to him about this, it was her.

But there were other things to worry about first. After she was sitting in the infirmary, sipping on a huge cup of water that Simon wanted her to drink, Mal agreed to dock with Agent Burnham's vessel, _Xiangbalao, _a name River found quite amusing. For Alliance agents to have a ship named 'Redneck' just seemed an oxymoron to her, even though she well knew that there were plenty of border-folk who worked in the Alliance infrastructure.

A short time later, Mal escorted a very subdued Sarah Elliot to the infirmary and sent a quick smile River's way. "I'll leave you two gals to it."

Sarah stepped tentatively into the infirmary, a bundle of nerves. These moments were always strange for River, the times she actually met someone whose mind and memories she had seen, because it always felt like she had known them for a while, but to them, she was a stranger.

And this woman, who hadn't been told the full story about what was going on, knew only that someone had tried to kill her because of some sort of business with her husband, and that River had saved her life.

"Guess I should start by sayin' thank you," Sarah said quietly. "I—you didn't have to do that. I feel terrible I got you into this _le se_."

"I got myself into it." At Sarah's disbelieving look, River smiled. "Really." She swallowed, knowing that what she had to say was going to be difficult for Sarah to take. "I need to tell you what happened, why this is happening. It's going to be hard."

Sarah stiffened slightly, but her eyes pierced River's. "Lotta things been hard lately."

So River told her, because she needed to know. She didn't mention Rina Duncan's name, but told her what had happened to her husband—though she left out exactly _how _she had discovered this. Sarah didn't recognize River's name, and that was fine. River just told her that she and the crew had been doing some investigating on the matter, which is how she happened to be in disguise at the hotel.

When she was finished, Sarah, who had moved to one of the benches lining the infirmary, closed her eyes and gripped the edge of her seat so hard that her knuckles turned white. "_Renci de Shang Di_." Stricken, she stared at River, her voice breaking when she said, "My baby—what about my baby?"

"They didn't kill her," River said. "They won't. She's out of the picture, pawn already taken off the board." Sarah's brow crinkled, and River clarified, "They sold her." Their reasoning had been that it was best not to waste what could be taught, and Savannah was young enough to be taught whatever her buyers wanted to teach her. "I don't know where," she added, before Sarah could ask. "But I promise—I will try to find out. I will. And—" Something was intruding on her mind, an argument of sorts taking place in the cargo bay between Mal and Agent Burnham, and River looked back at Sarah. "I think you might be on board a while longer."

:-:-:

"I ain't a gorram babysitter." Mal wanted to be perfectly obvious about that. "Got one kid on my boat already; don't need another. Or three others, as you're proposin'."

"Captain, we have to leave immediately to see if Rina Duncan appears at her next scheduled meeting. I don't know that she _will, _but it's important that we try to catch her there. We cannot do that and protect the Elliots at the same time. I'm not asking you to _keep _them on your boat; only to transfer them to the safe house we've set up for them until we can put a stop to this. We have an investigation to continue."

"You wouldn't have even got this far if it weren't for River. We got our own searchin' to do." What and where, exactly, Mal wasn't certain, but he wanted to be free to go anywhere without worrying about a family of refugees on board his boat.

"It's only a two day flight from here, Captain. I will pay for their expenses, and any you have to get there. Besides, I hardly think River is fit to do much 'searching' right now. This will at least give her a few days to recover, and hopefully by then we'll have Rina Duncan in custody."

Mal couldn't much argue the point that River needed some recovery time, and knowing her, if there was going to be some kind of action, she'd want to be in on it. Maybe it would be better to take a few days just to sail and give her time to heal. Mal crossed his arms and sighed. "All right, fine. But you catch that _bu huihen de pofu, _you tell me straight out."

"I will."

Mal was surprised by himself that he actually believed her. He _knew _the 'verse was turning upside-down when he took _any _Alliance agent at her word, even a tiny bit.

And that was how he wound up with four extra people on his boat. Made for a very interesting evening. Kaylee took a shine to the Elliot family straightaway, which wasn't saying much, since Kaylee took a shine to most people. Jayne just got aggravated and went off about the ship crawling with midgets, but Mal just figured him irritable because little Leah Elliot spilled her protein cereal all over him at supper. Then Jayne's yelling got Leah crying, which set off Simon and Kaylee's little Ren, and that got Kaylee started with telling off Jayne.

Then there was Simon, who was still none too happy with him about letting River participate in the events of the past weeks, as if River'd had no say in the matter. Simon kept shooting him little glances across the dinner table, which Mal pointedly ignored. Of course, Mal knew there would have been more than just glares if Simon had really known the half of it.

Somehow, Mal thought that no matter how much Simon knew that River led her own life, the limits of his understanding would be tested in more ways than one if he knew what had been happening while he was gone. Mal wouldn't have even thought twice about this under normal circumstances. He was the captain; he'd never relented under Simon's objections before—though granted, telling Simon he was taking his sister along on a job and telling Simon he was going to have a relationship with her were two entirely different matters.

Much as Simon annoyed the hell out of him sometimes, he knew what Simon and River meant to each other—knew that if it weren't for Simon, the River he knew wouldn't exist. The bond between them had been tested over and over again, and it had never broken. Mal didn't reckon it ever would. Simon meant everything to River, and that would never change—he would always be the other man in her life. It was something that just _was_, and Mal wouldn't ask her to give up any of what she had with her brother, because that would just be tearing part of River out.

Simon was going to find out about it sooner or later, but River had told Mal earlier that she wanted to talk to Simon. And the fallout was going to be _oh_-so-pretty.

Oh, yeah. It was going to be a long two days.


	7. Chapter 7

This chapter is for Sache, because she asked for it. ;)

* * *

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

Simon had wanted River to stay in the infirmary until at least the next day, but River didn't care for that idea. The infirmary was lit with a blue light on _Serenity's _night-cycle, and the combination of blue lights and infirmaries made for a very unpleasant trip to memories River preferred not to dwell on. She had shaken her head. "I can't sleep there," she had said with a shiver. "Blue ghosts with sharp needles."

Simon had sighed, understanding her meaning. "All right, we'll put you in your room." He was uncomfortable with the idea of her being so far away from him, and had decided to spend his first night back on _Serenity _in the quarters across the corridor, where he had stayed before he was with Kaylee, so he could check in on her during the night. It felt strange to have him right across the hall again; River had become so accustomed to having the passenger dorms to herself.

Even in her own room, River couldn't sleep. She had slept a long time at the hospital, and her back ached, despite the pain meds Simon had given her. Everyone on board was asleep—the crew upstairs, and the Elliots in the passenger quarters off of the corridor opposite River's room. One of the Elliot kids was having nightmares, so River's brain was swarmed with strange, frightening images—of a birthday cake whose flames burned higher and higher until they became torches held by shouting men with guns, and then darkness and pain. It was made all the worse because she knew these were not just bad dreams, but that they had a base in recent events. Something about the nightmares bothered River, something she couldn't quite put a finger on.

And on top of that, her mind was full of so many things—everything that had happened to her these past days and what it meant for her life. And Mal. Mal, who had finally opened himself up to her, to possibilities that he had never let himself want. Who loved her. Who Simon was going to have a cow and a half about if River didn't get around to talking to him very soon, because he would certainly notice their behavior toward each other. Zoe had, and that had been before Mal admitted to loving her.

Slowly, she pushed herself to a sitting position, trying to ignore the sharp sting it sent through her back. She was good at putting pain aside; she had been trained to do it, taught that a little pain was nothing in the long run, and she had suffered worse than a bullet wound at the hands of those who had taught her.

She slid carefully out of bed, bare feet touching the rug spread out beside her bed, and moved slowly toward the door. She opened it quietly, but had barely stepped through it when Simon, who had left his door open, sat straight up in his bed. He'd always been a light sleeper. He headed for her in an instant. "River," he whispered, his voice husky with sleep. "Are you all right?"

"I'm not tired," River said. "Too many vibrations. And I'm hungry."

Simon considered her for a moment. "Come sit down, and I'll bring you something to eat." He helped her move to the couch outside the infirmary and settled her in. "I'll be right back."

River watched him disappear up the stairs, and bit her lip as soon as he was gone. Maybe now would be a good time to broach the subject of Mal, when everyone else was asleep and she didn't have to worry about interruptions.

Simon returned in a short time with a protein bar and some crackers with a jelly spread, then slipped into the infirmary and brought her some medicine. River eyed it warily.

"Nothing to make you sleep," Simon assured her, correctly interpreting her expression. "Just to help with the pain." He sat beside her on the couch. River quickly swallowed the medicine, and then chewed on a jelly cracker, knowing Simon wouldn't go back to bed until he had determined she was fed and comfortable. Some things never changed, no matter how old they both got.

River finished her third cracker and half the protein bar, and then set the plate aside, turning carefully. The area on her back where she had been shot was an aching throb. "Simon," she said slowly. "There's something I want to talk to you about."

Simon heard something in her voice, or maybe saw it on her face, and he knew it was important. He narrowed his eyes slightly, taking her hand. "You know you can talk to me about anything."

River nodded and moved her other hand to his. "A lot happened while you were gone," she said hesitantly.

"More than the slave ring," Simon said, and it wasn't so much a question as it was a nudge to continue.

River swallowed. It was stupid to feel this nervous—Simon always helped her, was always there to catch her if she tripped, and he had come through an immense process of acceptance in her choices for her life. He loved her unconditionally—and that was what made this so hard. "Difficult," she said, fitting herself against Simon's side and laying her head on his shoulder, still clutching his hand between both of hers.

Simon wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and ran his hand down her hair. "It's all right. Just take your time."

River closed her eyes, listening to Simon's suddenly worried thoughts and feeling the soothing strokes of his fingers on her hair. Finally deciding the best way to do this was just to come out with it, she blurted, "I love Mal." She opened her eyes and looked at him without taking her head off of his shoulder. "I love him, Simon."

The motion of Simon's hand on her hair stopped as comprehension flashed across his face, and his eyes darted toward the stairs, then back at River. "River," he said cautiously, almost disbelievingly, "he's the captain." As if that somehow made a difference in how she felt.

River gave him a look of affectionate exasperation. "I never would have guessed."

Simon was still studying her. "You're really not joking." A half-dozen thoughts seemed to explode in his mind all at once, and he shook his head. "_Meimei, _he can't—it isn't—" He was having a hard time, wanting to reason with her without hurting her, but he didn't get it. He was thinking that maybe this was just a crush that she had suddenly developed. He didn't realize how deep it went, or that Mal felt the same way.

"It's more than what you think," River said softly. "I couldn't tell him, not for a long time, but then I kissed him—"

That got a much stronger reaction. River felt the jolt that went through Simon's entire body, and he stared at her in shock. "You _what?_"

River bit her lip, and she slowly told him how she had realized she loved Mal. She briefly mentioned how she'd come to kiss him, and then told him that Mal had finally admitted his own feelings to her in the med-center. Halfway through her recount of these events, she shifted to lay on her side, her head resting on Simon's legs—her back was _really _killing her now, despite the pain meds—and watched her brother's face sideways. When she had finished, Simon was deathly silent, but his mind was a swirling vortex of thoughts, so quick and crammed together that River had a hard time sorting them out.

"Say something," she finally whispered.

Simon's whole body was stiff. "Now I'm trying to decide whether to kill Mal for letting you put yourself into the middle of this slave ring or for kissing you," Simon finally said in a deathly calm voice.

"I kissed him first, Simon," River told him pointedly. "And I already told you it was my idea to do all of this with the slave ring."

"And I pointed out that he's the _captain,_" Simon said, his expression one of cold fury—not, River knew, at her, but at the thought of Mal touching her at all in a way that was un-captainy. "You don't—River, you—"

River pressed her fingers against Simon's lips, silencing him. "Simon," she said, her eyes and voice pleading with him for understanding. "I _love _him. I love him so much it hurts. Like I can't breathe sometimes. Like fire, like an explosion inside of me. I can't help it—I don't want to. I want it. I want him. I want you to know. To _see._ I want you to trust me, trust that I can tell what's real and what isn't, to know myself."

That got him. Simon's expression melted into one of tenderness. "Oh, _meimei. _I do trust you. You know that I—" He rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I love you," he finally said. "I just—it terrified the _go se _out of me when Zoe waved and told me that you had been shot. I want to tell you to get as far away from this slaving ring as possible. I want to murder Mal for even _thinking_ about touching you, but—"

River heard all the 'buts' in his mind. He thought she deserved more, deserved better, but he would think that no matter who she fell in love with. No one would ever be good enough for his baby sister. However, where a few years ago he would have been breaking down Mal's door right about now, he restrained himself, because he knew that they had both chosen this life, in the end. Simon knew that River loved it here, never wanted to leave, and he had entrusted his life and hers—and Kaylee's and Ren's—to Mal's captaining a long time ago. Even if Simon would never, ever admit it, he knew that Mal was a good man with his own code of honor.

Simon's jaw knotted, and he rested a hand on her cheek. "You've grown up. I know you're all right, but that doesn't mean I don't worry. I'll still worry about you when you're old and gray and knitting booties for your grandchildren—oh, _zaogao_! Forget I said—" He sighed and gave up, gently hugging her as she lay in his lap. "I want you to be happy."

River's eyes blurred with tears, and she sniffled. "Mal makes me happy, Simon."

"I know. I hear it." It sounded as though Simon was pulling teeth to admit this, and it didn't stave off his urge to cause Mal bodily harm, but at least he acknowledged her feelings. "Just—River, _xiaoxin. _Please, _please _be careful."

"I'm always careful." River wrapped an arm around Simon's legs, feeling suddenly a lot lighter. She yawned. "I love you, Simon."

Simon sighed again, absently massaging River's neck. "I love you, too, River." He was struggling with his thoughts, trying to put them in order, but River closed her eyes, letting it all filter through her mind as she drifted off to sleep.

:-:-:

The first thing Mal did when he got up early was to head to the kitchen for something to help him wake up. He'd planned on sleeping longer, but with a boatful of kids on board, he wanted to be up and about before one of them took to trying something stupid that might hurt them or his boat.

He made his coffee and turned from the counter, only to find himself face-to-face with Simon. Pushing back a sudden sense of déjà vu, he raised his eyebrows at the doc's angry—yes, definitely angry—face, knowing that River must've had that conversation with him sometime between dinner last night and now. She must've done some awful smart talking, too, because Simon hadn't hit him over the head with anything while his back was turned, though he looked like he'd really like to take a swing at Mal.

Putting a little smile on his face, Mal took a sip of coffee, then thought that maybe it would be better if he put the hot liquid _down _during the inevitable confrontation, and set it on the counter. "Mornin', Doctor. Somethin' I can do for you?"

"I just want to make one thing very, very clear," Simon said in a low voice. "If you hurt my sister, I will kill you. Slowly."

Mal crossed his arms and leaned in toward Simon, till he wasn't but a foot away. "Let _me_ make one thing very clear. I got no intentions of hurtin' River."

"Yes, well, your intentions don't always go as planned, do they, Captain?" Simon snapped. "And while we're at it, what _are _your intentions for her? What are you looking to get out of this, Mal? She said you love her, and River always knows the truth, but you'd better tell me right now that this isn't just some sort of _yu ben de _fling that you're going to throw away when something else comes along. Do you know what that would do to her?"

Mal kept a tight rein on his temper—he would've liked nothing more than to knock Simon flat, and the only reason he hadn't was out of courtesy for River. In fact, that was probably what had kept Simon from striking out at him, which was kind of ironical.

It still didn't mean he had to answer to Simon, or take his _fei hua_. "You ain't the only one livin' on this boat. I know what River's been through. I know what she still goes through. And I know damn well what it would do to her."

"Then what? Are you looking for a quick roll in the hay?" Simon's hands clenched into fists. "Looking to—"

Here, Mal lost his temper. He grabbed Simon by his shirt and shoved him backwards into the counter, and Simon pushed right back. Mal glared hard at him. "If that's what I was lookin' for, I could've found it plenty elsewhere, if I'd had the mind. And I got no need to answer to you."

"What's goin' _on_?"

Both men turned to see Kaylee standing in the doorway, Ren in her arms, a look of worried bewilderment on her face.

Mal roughly released Simon's shirt and held his hands tightly at his sides to keep from putting a fist into that arrogant face. He grabbed his coffee cup off the counter and strode toward the door, but Simon's voice followed him. "You do this right, Mal. Because God help me, she loves you, and you'd better not screw it up."

Mal didn't even offer Simon a backwards glance as he walked away. He heard Kaylee questioning Simon, but her voice was lost when he turned the corner to head downstairs. When he got to the bottom, he stopped. He'd half-expected to find River in the infirmary, but she was curled up on the couch, a blanket tucked over her. He noticed another blanket and a pillow in one of the chairs, and realized that Simon must have spent the night there, watching over her. He sighed. Whatever else Simon might be, he was possibly the most devoted man Mal'd ever known, and that said something for him, anyway.

He sat on one of the chairs and had only downed half his coffee when a door in the extra passenger dorms slid open, and the only Elliot boy ran out, squealing, while his mother chased after him, a stony expression on her face. "Remy Elliot, you get back here this instant!" she hissed. "You're gonna wake every soul on—" She caught sight of Mal, watching her with raised eyebrows, and flushed. "Cap'n! I didn't mean to—_Remy. _I'm gonna tan your hide, you don't get in here!"

The child darted past his mother and back into the room. The door slid shut, and the faint sound of scolding met Mal's ears. Shaking his head, he sank back into his chair and took another drink, only to find River's eyes open and fixed on him, a faint, peaceful smile on her face. "Morning."

"Mornin', darlin'. How you farin'?"

"All right." River's forehead creased in a slight frown. "You talked to Simon."

"I did."

River studied him for a moment, and then seemed to relax slightly. "It's all right." She smiled, then shoved her blanket off and sat up very slowly, with only a small grimace. When she started to push herself to her feet, Mal set his cup down and gave her a hand up. "Where you headed?"

"My room. I need to change."

Mal blinked away the sudden image _that _brought on, hoping River hadn't picked up on it. From her sideways glance and the funny little expression that passed across her face, he thought she _had_, but she made no comment as she stepped into her room and slid the door shut behind her.

Mal rubbed his forehead. One thing was sure—River's psychic abilities were going to make this new step in their relationship very interesting.

As he went back to his coffee, he saw Simon standing at the bottom of the stairs, watching him with the threat of death in his eyes. His eyes darted from River's bedroom door to Mal, and they narrowed even further. "Remember," Simon muttered darkly as he headed past Mal toward the infirmary, "I'm a _surgeon_."

And Simon's ability to be a _liumang _was going to add plenty of color to it, too.

:-:-:

River slept the afternoon and evening away—Simon said she hadn't had much rest the last night, and since she was having trouble sleeping, he finally gave her some drugs that knocked her silly. Mal checked in on her a few times, but always found her sleeping on the couch downstairs. He knew she had to be really doped if she managed to stay asleep with the Elliot kids making a racket in that area—the only place on board they were allowed to go without supervision.

Simon had apparently been planning on sleeping downstairs again, but Kaylee finally managed to coax him away. Mal was in the cockpit, and heard them coming down the corridor. "…and she's doin' just shiny," Kaylee was saying. "Your wife, on the other hand, could use some attention."

Mal glanced out in the corridor and saw Kaylee holding Simon's hand and tugging him toward their bunk. "C'mon, Simon," Kaylee said gently. "She ain't gonna get better no faster with you hoverin'. 'Sides, she can comm if she needs you."

That was probably the only assurance, in the end, that Simon gave into. The couple disappeared into their bunk, and Mal turned back to his console. He was doing some checking into jobs, since he wasn't quite sure what he was going to do after he dropped the Elliots off the next afternoon. River had earned a load of money working as a geisha—one of the feds had collected it from the hotel for River, who had promptly turned it over to Mal—so it wasn't like they were strapped for cash just now. Still, it would be nice to be a step ahead, and there weren't any new leads on Rina Duncan or the slaving ring just now.

He found one or two possible job leads, though they weren't from his normal clients, so he wasn't sure how reliable they were. Sighing, and still not feeling tired enough to sleep, though everyone else had gone to bed, Mal decided his gun could probably stand a good cleaning. Least it would give him something to occupy his time till he could crash.

He was in the dining room, pieces of his gun strewn about on the table, when he saw River making her way down the hall, one hand on the wall for support. Mal set his gun on the table and met her at the doorway, giving her a hand down into the room. "What're you doin' up here?"

"I'm awake now," River said, a little groggily. "Sort of."

Mal gave her hand a squeeze. "I'll get you somethin' if you're hungry." He made to help her to one of the chairs, but she didn't move.

"I'm all right," she said, taking his other hand and smiling at him. "I just wanted to see you."

Mal gave her a little smile in return. "Ain't much to see." It was, he realized, the first time he'd really been alone with her since the hospital. There was a moment in which they both looked at each other, something akin to 'well, now what?' passing between them.

Then River closed the distance between them and rested against him, allowing their entwined hands to dangle at their sides. She lifted her head, her eyes searching his for something. He wasn't sure exactly what she was looking for, but she felt so good pressed up against him. He tried _not _to think about that—told himself that this was all new, that she was hurt, that the crew was just down the hall…

"Mal," River murmured, releasing one of his hands and caressing his face. She didn't sound so tired anymore, and the way she was staring at him sent heat through his body. He half-expected to see Simon suddenly appear, but the bunk remained firmly shut. "Mal…"

And then they were kissing, and nothing else mattered. This was real, she was real, and what they had found with each other was real. He kissed her desperately, hungrily, wanting her like he had never wanted any woman. River wrapped her arms around him, weaving her hands into his hair, and he deepened their kiss, breathing in the feel and taste and sight of her.

When they finally broke apart, River ran her fingers over his shoulders and chest, her body trembling against his. "I love you, Malcolm Reynolds," she whispered. "I want you forever."

Which sounded pretty nice to him. Mal took a deep breath and smoothed River's hair from her face. He had the presence of mind to realize that she was leaning pretty hard on him. "_Ni mei shi ba_?"

"I-I think I need to sit down."

Mal helped her to a chair, where she sat very carefully, wincing as she gently touched her fingers to her back. "You need some pain meds?"

River shook her head. "_Wo hao_. Just need to catch my breath." A tiny smile passed across her face so quickly Mal wondered if it had really been there.

:-:-:

The next morning, River got on the cortex and began hacking into Rina Duncan's personal and government files. Duncan was still scheduled to show up at a meeting that afternoon, and while River doubted she would actually be there, she knew that Agent Burnham would already have her team in position just in case.

River wished she could do more, but even just spending an hour on the cortex taxed her healing body. She probably would have stayed on longer anyway, except Simon dragged her back downstairs to re-bandage her wound. "You don't need to exert yourself," he told her as she laid facedown in the infirmary, and River wondered if he would have included her kissing Mal in the dining room last night to be exerting herself.

Despite her frustration over the whole Rina Duncan situation, this brought a grin to her face. She _liked _kissing Mal, exertion be damned. She hid her face in the pillow so Simon wouldn't question the expression that she knew had to be on her face.

"It looks good," Simon said. "No infections." He finished and she moved to the couch, where she began going over some files from Rina Duncan's personal itinerary, files she had transferred from the cortex to her computer pad. Since Duncan's _future _trips weren't much help right now, River worked her way backwards, looking at previous trips Duncan had taken, hoping to find something, some connection that might help. In most cases, her personal itinerary matched that which the government had listed for her, but there were a few holes, a few times when Duncan had gone places and used an alias like she had on New Canaan.

_Where are you?_ River wondered. _What are you doing?_

While she worked, the two littlest Elliot children, ages five and three, were bounding around the room. They knew they were close to their destination, and continually asked, "are we there yet?" River finally fished her colored pencils out of her room and brought them out so the two kids could color. Eventually, Sarah's eldest daughter Lissa, who had been quiet and withdrawn, joined in, sitting silently in one of the chairs, face obscured by her blond hair as she drew. Sarah kept watch over her children for a while, and then went to make them lunch.

In the end, she might not have learned anything if it hadn't been for Lissa Elliot. River hadn't heard her speak more than two words, and those had been "yes, ma'am," in response to her mother. Even her mind was quiet, locked into a single event—the death of her father and the disappearance of her sister. Which, in the end, was what gave River what she needed. These memories were very like the nightmares River had been experiencing, and she didn't doubt that it had been Lissa doing the dreaming.

One particular event was tucked away amongst the stronger ones, but it flashed through River's head and she suddenly realized the significance. Her head snapped up, and she stared at the little girl. "It was Savannah's birthday."

Lissa jumped and looked for all the world like a timid little rabbit. She seemed uncertain about what she was supposed to say, so she settled with, "Ma'am?"

"Her birthday," River whispered. She lurched to her feet and made for the stairs, pulling herself up them. She met Sarah in the hallway, returning to collect her children for lunch. "It was Savannah's birthday this month," she said.

Sarah's brow furrowed. "Well—yes."

"Before your husband died." River gripped the wall and stared at Sarah. "Did he send her anything for her birthday?"

Sarah blinked. "Y-yes. It weren't nothin' much, just a little trinket he picked up…" She trailed off and her eyes widened. "You think he sent it to her? Whatever that awful woman at the hotel was lookin' for?"

It was so simple—so unobvious that even when Rina Duncan had asked Sarah if her husband sent her anything before he died, it hadn't come to mind. Why would she suspect her little girl's birthday gift?

"It was just a little bracelet," Sarah said slowly. "She was wearin' it when they took her." She shook her head. "What sorta thing could he have sent in a bracelet?"

River was already running over the possibilities. "A lot of things." She bit her lip. They needed to find Savannah, and hope that the bracelet hadn't been taken from her or thrown away. There were no guarantees it was the evidence they were looking for, but she had promised to try to find Savannah anyway. How ironic that, if Savannah really did have the evidence they were looking for, out of the four Elliot children, the mercenaries had taken _her._

The only question was how she was going to find one little girl in a very big universe.


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

Even after River told Mal her suspicions about the little Elliot girl's birthday gift, there wasn't much they could do about it. River was still a little lost as to where to start—they had no idea which mercenaries had kidnapped Savannah in the first place. Rina Duncan was probably the only person who knew, and she was, conveniently, missing.

Just before they dropped off the Elliots, Mal got a call from a man who he'd never heard of, but who said he'd heard of Mal's reputation and needed some cargo moved. Mal thought it over, and finally decided that would probably be his best option—better pay with someone who wanted him specifically, opposed to the odd jobs he'd found on the cortex. So once the Elliots were settled in their safe house, they left to pick up cargo on Greenleaf. Mal found that ironic enough, considering taking something _to _Greenleaf had been their last job before embarking on this mad chase after slavers.

They were only half a day's flight from Greenleaf, and the schedule that Mal was running on now also meant that he would get to Greenleaf in the middle of the night. The rendezvous was set for shortly after that, which was fine with Mal—better to get this over with quickly, and there was always less chance of being spotted in the dark.

That night, for the first time since Simon and Kaylee's return, all of them ate dinner together. River only looked a little lethargic, and when Mal sat down beside her, she smiled at him. Simon glared at him from across the table, but next to him, Kaylee was beaming at them. It was obvious that Simon had told her what was going on between Mal and River. And of course, Kaylee couldn't keep her mouth closed for long when something made her happy. "I think it's just shiny about you two," she finally said.

Simon shot Kaylee a disbelieving look. Zoe was wearing a knowing little smirk, and Jayne glanced up from his food with his normal expression of confusion on his face. "What two now?"

"Captain and River!" Kaylee replied, rolling her eyes at Jayne.

Little Ren squealed and threw a handful of canned fruit on the floor.

"What about 'em?" Jayne shot Mal and River a very suspicious stare.

Kaylee uttered a long-suffering sigh as she bent to pick up Ren's mess. "They're _together_, Jayne."

Jayne stared at Mal and River dumbly for a moment, and then understanding slowly dawned. "Oh…" A grin crossed his face, and he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "Guess the sex must be pretty int—"

"_What_?" Simon whipped his head around to Jayne.

"Don't be a pig, Jayne," Kaylee said, before Simon could say anything more. She straightened and dumped Ren's food back on her little high chair. "'Sides, River's got a bullet hole in her back. Wouldn't be much fun with—"

"_Kaylee!_" Simon gasped, and Mal bit back a laugh. Wasn't like he and River _had _done anything. And even if they had, it wasn't anybody's business but theirs.

Mal considered saying something of the like, but he _was _finding the sight of Simon being all bothered by Kaylee right amusing. And River didn't seem troubled; she just glanced at him and smiled with her eyes, but continued to calmly eat her food.

"Don't go gettin' your knickers in a twist," Kaylee told Simon affably, spooning some sort of mush into Ren's mouth. "Weren't like _we _didn't do it all over the place when we—"

Simon's face was an interesting shade of red, though whether out of embarrassment or anger, it was hard to tell. "That's different," he said, shoving his plate of food back.

"Really." Kaylee crossed her arms, spoon still in hand. "How's that?"

Simon seemed to have realized he'd dug himself into a hole, and several years of being married to Kaylee had taught him when to keep his mouth shut and keep from jumping _into_ said hole. His jaw tightened, and his eyes flickered from Mal to River. Before he had a chance to say anything, though, Zoe spoke.

"Seems what the captain and River do and how they do it is their business," she said, in her 'drop it _now_' sort of voice.

Simon's angry gaze turned on Zoe, but she stared back at him. One thing Mal thought Simon had neglected to remember until now was that however protective he was of River, Zoe was equally protective of Mal. Hopefully that would make the good doctor think twice before he acted…rashly about anything.

Ren broke the intense moment when she screeched again and chucked another fistful of fruit into the air, several pieces of which landed on Kaylee and Zoe. Kaylee grinned as Zoe plucked a chunk of pear out of her hair. "You tell 'em, Ren," Kaylee said.

Mal pushed his chair back and stood up. "Kaylee, I want the entry sequences checked before you hit the sack tonight."

Kaylee stood up and pulled Ren out of her chair, brushing food off of her before setting her down on the floor. "Not to fret, Captain. It'll be done."

:-:-:

Greenleaf had earned its name due to the forests that covered much of its surface. It was one of the rare worlds that had taken well to terraforming, producing lush green lands and a lot of plants, from which dyes and materials were produced and manufactured.

This was another under-the-table sort of job, and Mal had no idea what they were transporting, but he didn't care so long as he got paid.

When the proximity alert went off, indicating they were coming up on Greenleaf, Mal dragged himself out of bed. However, when he got to the cockpit, he found River already there, and he squinted at her. "What're you doin' up here?"

"Piloting."

Mal rolled his eyes. "Why?"

"Because I miss it." River began pushing buttons and adjusting their vector slightly to lower _Serenity _through the atmosphere of Greenleaf. "I wish I could go with you."

Mal rested a hand on her shoulder. "You'll be all healed up pretty soon. Meantime, I need you here in case we need a quick getaway."

"I know, but we don't know this contact. What kind of man goes by the name 'Bones?"

"One who don't like his rightful name." River looked up at him and pursed her lips, looking so serious that Mal frowned. "You sensin' trouble comin'?"

"Not specifically. I just don't like that I can't be there," River's eyes focused out the window as she continued to lower the ship and extended the legs. They settled neatly on the ground. "I looked on the cortex and haven't found much on this Bones character." River swiveled her chair toward Mal and gazed up at him. "Be careful."

The sound of a hatch opening indicated that someone was awake, and moments later, Zoe stepped into the cockpit, her gun already on her hip, looking completely alert. "We takin' the mule?"

Mal considered. The rendezvous point was less than a quarter of a mile from where they'd landed, but he'd been told the cargo would be in large boxes, so they'd need the mule to haul the cargo back to _Serenity._ Might even have to make a couple of trips, depending on how many goods were being transported.

Besides, with an unknown contact, might be nice to have the mule for a quick getaway and extra weapons, should they need them.

"Yeah, we'll take it," Mal said.

Zoe prepped the mule, and Jayne loaded up with his weapons, including grenades. Mal didn't begrudge him the grenades; he'd long learned it was nice to have them as contingency. Even Simon got up, likely because of all the noise going on, but Kaylee stayed asleep.

Simon went down to the cargo bay with River to see them off. He didn't say anything when River kissed Mal just before they drove out of the cargo bay and away from _Serenity_.

The night was cool and the air was fresh. Well, mostly. The occasional draft had the stench of smoke from the numerous factories, some of which stayed open during the night to increase productivity.

The rendezvous point was close enough to _Serenity _that Mal could see the silhouette of the ship among the trees. Bones wasn't there yet, so there was nothing for them to do but wait.

:-:-:

River wrapped her arms around herself and watched the mule disappear into the cool night on Greenleaf. Simon stood beside her, staring at her with a most curious look on his face. Given that he had just, for the first time, seen her kiss a man, she could understand his expression. He looked stunned, but hearing his thoughts, River realized it was good. Hearing her say that she loved him and seeing it…it had made an impact, and River hoped in a good way.

"Come on, River," he said softly, raising the ramp. "They'll be back soon."

"I won't sleep," River said, turning. "Not till they get back."

Simon studied her for a moment, and then he nodded. "I'll make you some tea."

"You don't have to stay up."

"I don't mind."

"Can I have the tea in the cockpit? I've missed being there."

And so it was, a short time later, that River sat curled up in her chair in the cockpit with a hot cup of tea in her hands. Simon sat in Mal's usual chair, and it was nice—aside from check-ups and that one conversation about Mal, she hadn't talked with Simon very much since he returned. She'd been sleeping a lot, and often when she was awake, he was asleep. So she enjoyed sipping her tea and listening to his stories of the time spent at Kaylee's parents' home.

She was about halfway through drinking her cup of tea, and Simon was in the middle of a tale about Kaylee's father, when a wave came in from Agent Burnham. "River. How are you doing?"

"All right," River said. "Getting better."

"That's good to hear. I was actually waving to see if you might be able to give me some information."

River's eyes narrowed slightly. "What sort of information?"

"Rina Duncan didn't show up at her meeting today, which was expected. However, we did get a tip on one of Rina Duncan's top mercenaries. He was actually at the party on Olympia, and we believe that just before that, he was involved in the kidnapping of Savannah Elliot on New Canaan. Unfortunately, we don't even know his real name. I thought you or one of the crew might have heard of him, since he apparently often works in the—subtler sort of business."

"You mean the thieving business," River said.

"Well, yes. If we can find him we might have a lead to Rina Duncan, and we might be able to recover the missing Elliot girl. This mercenary goes by the name 'Bones,' and—"

"_What?_"

Burnham blinked. "You know—"

River didn't wait around to hear what she was saying. She ended the wave and contacted Mal immediately. "Mal! Mal, you have to get out of there! It's a trap!"

His voice crackled back through the comm. "Think I just figured that out, darlin'."

She was already too late. Panic fluttered through her. "I'm coming to help you." She shoved herself to her feet and was halfway out the door as she heard Mal objecting

"No, you a—" She shoved herself to her feet and was halfway out the door before Burnham realized she was leaving. She moved quickly down the corridor and swung around the stairs toward the cargo bay while Simon ran after her. "River! River, what are you—"

"Bones. She must have hired him to lure us here with a job. It's a trap; it has to be." River ran along the catwalks and down to the ground floor of the cargo bay, Simon right on her heels.

"River, you can't—you're in no shape—"

He might have had a point—just going down all of these stairs jolted and sent little lightning flashes of pain shooting through her back from her wound. "Irrelevant. I can function."

"And then what? River, you're still healing; you might tear that wound open ag—"

"I _don't care._" River reached underneath the stairs and pulled out one of the guns Mal kept hidden around the cargo bay. She realized that she was wearing nothing but her knee-length pajama shirt, and settled with keeping the gun in her hand. She quickly found a second gun on the way to the cargo bay doors.

"River…" Simon's voice was at once worried and resigned.

River punched the button to lower the ramp. "I'll be back. Get Kaylee, keep the ship running." If it came down to it, Kaylee might be able to pilot _Serenity_. "Lock the ramp behind me; don't let anyone in." She fled down the ramp before it even touched earth.

:-:-:

Mal hadn't been at the rendezvous point for more than a few minutes when the transceiver he wore crackled, and River's voice burst into his ear. "Mal! Mal, you have to get out of there. It's a trap!"'

_What?_ He didn't stop to question; he just nodded at Zoe and Jayne. "Back to the—"

But he was too late. A half dozen men appeared, all armed and pointing their weapons straight at him, Jayne, and Zoe. "Think I just figured that out, darlin'," he told River.

"I'm coming to help you."

"No, you a—" But Mal knew that River was no longer even listening on the other end. He cursed inwardly. Last thing he wanted was River in this mess in her current condition.

Another half dozen men came out of the trees from behind them, similarly armed, and when another few men came from the other two sides, completely surrounding them, he knew they were really in trouble. He, Jayne, and Zoe had their guns out and pointed in three different directions, but they were far short of covering their own asses.

One man stepped forward, gun in hand, and Mal's eyes narrowed as he recognized him—this man had shot at him and River at the party on Olympia. He kept his voice even, though he felt anything but calm, as he addressed the gunman in front of him—Bones, most likely. "Well. Looks like we got a problem here." His mind raced to find a way out of this before they got killed, and before River came bursting into the scene.

"Bigger than you know," Bones replied. His sharp eyes scanned the area. "Where's that woman weapon of yours?"

"She ain't my weapon," Mal said. "And her whereabouts don't matter none."

"Afraid they do, but I suppose we can find her our own selves." His finger was on the trigger.

"Whoa, just hold on a tick. You doin' this for money? 'Cause if it's payin' you're after, we might be able to work somethin' out," Mal said.

Bones looked at him coldly. "I don't think you could match the deal I've got goin' now, let alone pass it. Besides, this is the job. You understand that, don't ya, Captain Reynold? Ain't nothing personal."

Before Bones could squeeze his trigger, both of his hands suddenly had bullet holes in them, and then he dropped to the ground with a shot to the stomach. Before Mal could even blink, the two men beside him went down, and then Mal threw himself to the ground in front of the mule, effectively hiding him from over half the circle of shooters, all of whom were trying to figure out where the bullets were coming from as two more men fell. Several shots were fired in Mal's direction as Zoe and Jayne dropped down beside him. Mal took a shot at a man who turned his gun on Zoe.

There were still shots going off, though, and shouts, and Mal's gun was out of bullets. "Where's the spare clips?" he yelled to Jayne.

"Side hatch!"

Mal poked his head up over the top of the mule, and his heart seemed to stop in his chest. River was here, in a blue night shirt of all things, a gun in each hand. She was standing behind one man, using him as a shield as she fired her weapons two different directions. It hit two different men square in the head. She hit the man she was using as a shield over the head and then moved to her right to the next target.

It was the first time since the Maidenhead that Mal had ever seen her use a gun to cause injury, let alone death. Sure, he'd seen her take guns from people and seen her use them to shoot a weapon out of someone's hand, but she hadn't ever used it for killing.

But he watched now, at the eerie and methodical precision with which she wielded the weapons. Watched one-two-three as the next men went down before he could so much as blink, and saw as she _just _missed getting hit with bullets, probably sensing them coming the moment before it happened.

An explosion consumed the men opposite River, and Mal whipped around, seeing Jayne preparing to lobby another grenade that direction. Mal quickly snatched the spare clips out of the hatch and popped one into his gun. A searing pain pierced his shoulder, and he swiveled to shoot the gunman who'd hit him. Zoe added her fire to the mix, and River had rid herself the guns—she was probably out of bullets—and had physically engaged with three men, a deadly, graceful whirlwind that took them all out, until everyone was down and she had worked her way back to Bones's fallen body. She stopped in front of him, breathing hard, and Mal noticed with a sudden surge of fear that the back of her shirt was soaked red with blood.

He also noticed that Bones was still alive—barely. His hands were a bloodied mess and the wound in his belly was obviously going to kill him, but it hadn't failed Mal's notice that River hadn't killed him straight away. Now, she scooped another gun off the ground and pointed it at his head. "Where is she?" Her voice was hard and angry. "Where is Savannah Elliot?"

Bones was taking deep, heaving breaths, but at River's question, he somehow managed the strength to spit at her.

River cocked the gun. "Where is Rina Duncan?"

"_Qu ni de!_" Bones started coughing, wet, hacking coughs, and when he stopped, he was either dead or unconscious; Mal didn't bother to check which.

River slowly lowered her weapon to the ground and turned to face him. The expression on her face was at once pained and fearful, dark and fierce.

Jayne's voice broke the silence. "Guess this means we ain't gettin' paid."

Mal glanced at Jayne, and saw that he was clutching a bullet wound in his thigh. Zoe seemed unharmed. Mal motioned her and Jayne. "Get on the mule." Clutching his own bleeding shoulder, he hurried over to River. He could have cared less about his own injury—he'd been dealt worse, and it wasn't life-threatening. But if River had been shot again…he didn't see any holes in her shirt, but with all the blood, it was a little hard to tell.

"I know where she is. I saw." River's voice sounded a little off. Mal wasn't sure she meant Savannah Elliot or Rina Duncan, and he still wasn't sure about what was going on. "I killed them," she whispered, her eyes roving over the fallen bodies. She swayed slightly on her feet.

"You did," Mal said evenly. "Hold still." He carefully lifted the back of her shirt and saw that she was bleeding from her previous injury. She must have torn it open again; the blood ran down her back and soaked into her underwear. "Come on. We gotta get you back to your brother."

"He's going to be upset."

"Think he'll be more upset if you don't get that taken care of." Mal pulled River firmly toward the mule and lifted her up into the front seat beside Zoe. He clambered over her to the back. "Take us home." And then maybe they could figure out what the _hell _had just happened.

:-:-:

Mal ordered Zoe to get them off of Greenleaf, but River protested that most frantically while Simon prepared to put her out so he could treat her wound. "No! No, don't leave—I know. She's here, she's here—you have to stay…"

Simon prepared a hypo and brought it over to River, but she grabbed his wrist to stop him. "We can't leave!"

"Just keep us in orbit around Greenleaf," Mal told Zoe, and she nodded and disappeared up the stairs.

River calmed slightly then, releasing Simon's wrist and allowing him to drug her. Just before he knocked her out, Mal heard her speak to Simon, so faint that he could barely make out her words. "I did it, Simon."

"I know you did, _meimei._"

"Killed them first. _Bang, bang, _and the puppets' strings were cut." River gave a sound that sounded like a half-laugh, half-cry, just as Simon pushed the hypo into her neck. Her eyes closed almost instantly.

Simon worked with a practiced speed that came from working as a trauma surgeon, cutting through River's nightshirt and working on her wound. Once he was through with River, he patched up Jayne's leg and then set to work on Mal's injury in stiff, angry silence. Kaylee hovered outside the infirmary, looking fearful.

Certain that his crew was going to be all right (Simon wouldn't have been angry if River wasn't going to be all right—well, he would have been, but he would have been other things, too) Mal thought the time had come to ask some questions. "How'd she know it was a trap?" Mal asked Simon in a low voice.

"Some woman called—I don't even know who she was, but she knew River." He described the woman and the conversation, his voice chopped and angry, and Mal realized it had to have been Agent Burnham,.

Mal kept his eyes on River, lying facedown with a sheet covering her bare back. She looked so incredibly pale. Kaylee was standing by her side now, holding her hand. "She's…really gonna be okay?" Kaylee whispered.

Simon replied stonily, "She's going to be fine, as long as she doesn't pull another stunt like that. She just undid what little recovery she had accomplished." He threw Mal a clean shirt. "I hope this was _worth _it."


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER NINE**

Mal stayed in the infirmary with River, and Simon didn't argue with it, to his credit. Simon kept watch over River for a while, till Kaylee dragged him to the couch outside the infirmary and insisted he get some sleep.

Mal dozed off on the bench by the wall, and woke to the sound of River weeping. His eyes snapped open, and he saw that Simon was already there, sitting beside River on the bed, holding her and smoothing her hair back. River was curled on her side, crying into the side of Simon's leg, and Mal could just make out her words. "…had to do it, had to, they were going to kill them all. Too many, Simon, there were too many. I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe. I dad to do it. I have to end it."

"Shh, shh. It's all right. _Mei guanxi, _you did what you had to do, River. You saved them. It's all right, shh…"

"I can still hear them. I had to do it and I would do it again, but I don't want them, they're not mine and they are mine…" River's voice trailed off into more weeping, and Mal sat up, torn between anger and sorrow. After trying so hard for so long to avoid killing anyone, hating what the Alliance had tried to make her, River had been pushed into making that choice. He just hoped it hadn't tipped her into a breakdown.

Simon looked over at him, his expression unreadable. He continued to hold River, until her crying subsided and she slept again. He sat by her side for a few more minutes, and then carefully settled her back into the bed and retreated to the couch without saying a word to Mal.

Mal stood and walked around the bed so he could see River's face. It was streaked from her tears, and she suddenly looked small, so small and fragile. It was hard to believe sometimes that so much strength was packed into her. To think of everything that she had survived, when so many others would have been crushed.

He reached out and brushed the back of his hand across her cheek, aware that Simon was watching his every move with hard eyes. "_Duibuqi_, River." He sighed and rubbed his hand across his face. "Damn, but we always do seem to land ourselves in the awful messes, don't we?" He dragged over a chair and sat in it, holding one of her hands in his. He'd been doing a lot of thinking the past while, and there were some conclusions he'd come to—conclusions he'd already known, but that meant entirely different things now, given the direction his relationship with River was going. Life was short, and Mal didn't want to waste what time he had left. Not now, not after everything he had finally allowed himself to find with River.

So much had been echoing through his head—some, like Book's warning of a 'special' hell, which made him chuckle to recall. Some, like the words Simon had thrown in his face—"_You do this right"—_which he would have liked to ignore but found he couldn't. And some were his own words to River—"_You deserve to have and hold."_

He _wanted_ to do this right, and the ironic thing was, he wasn't even completely sure what that meant. He just knew that he wanted to give River whatever was left of him to give.

:-:-:

When River woke next, Kaylee was the only one in the infirmary, sitting beside River and holding her hand. River's back felt on fire, and she vaguely wondered if that was what had awakened her. Despite the pain, she felt a lot more oriented than she had since running into the fray to save Mal, Zoe, and Jayne.

_Oh, dear God…I killed them._ This made her feel horribly pained and strangely hollow all at once. She had meant what she had said to Simon—she knew she'd had to do it. She knew that Bones and his men had been going to kill Mal, Zoe, and Jayne, and then come find her to kill her, and they would have killed Simon, and Kaylee, and Ren. She'd _had _to shoot—there had been too many of them, too spread out.

She still wished there had been another way, but the fact was, what was done was done. She couldn't turn the clock backwards. She'd just been so overwhelmed when it first happened…she vaguely remembered sobbing to Simon about it, and she knew Mal had been there—she'd heard him in her head—but it felt like a dream.

"Hey!" Kaylee noticed that her eyes were open and smiled gently at her. "How you doin', sweetie?"

"Hurt," River whispered, not sure if she meant in her spirit or body.

"I'll get Simon." Kaylee started to get to her feet, but River shook her head.

"Not yet. He's sleeping. We should let him rest his burdens for a time." River swallowed. "Mal?"

"I'll get him," Kaylee said quickly. She gave River's hand a squeeze and hurried out of the infirmary.

River closed her eyes and didn't open them again until she felt Mal's presence in the room. She opened her eyes and saw him standing beside her. Kaylee was at the door, and gave her a quick smile before disappearing back up the stairs.

Mal took both of her hands in his and rubbed his thumbs across them. River heard a lot in his mind as he looked at her—felt his remorse that she'd been pushed into killing, his anger at what had happened, his worry over her state of being. "I'm all right," she murmured. Mal's eyebrows twitched in slight disbelief, and she amended. "I'll be all right. Really." She swallowed again and her hands tightened in his. "I need to finish this. I found Savannah Elliot. I saw it in his mind—Bones. He knew. He sold her."

Mal took a deep breath. "Where?"

"Here. On Greenleaf." River closed her eyes, the image still so clear in her mind. "A factory—factory one forty-three. I need to tell Agent Burnham. They're using child laborers in the factory, more than one factory here—illegal. Alliance jurisdiction. Need to tell her how to get in touch with Rina Duncan—they might be able to trace the line. Bones…he didn't know where she was, but he had a way to contact her and I saw that."

Mal nodded slightly. "You'll really be okay." It was a half-question, half-statement, and River gave a nod of her own.

"I just want this to stop," she whispered, opening her eyes. She wanted to just be back to _normal _jobs, wanted to get better, wanted nothing more than just to be with Mal and to pilot _Serenity_. She looked at him, studying his eyes and the thoughts behind them. He was a deep well, her Malcolm Reynolds, and he'd dragged a lot of things to the surface. "Just a little longer," she murmured, squeezing his fingers gently. "A little longer."

:-:-:

It turned out that Agent Burnham was only a couple hours outside of Greenleaf, heading for another world, but she rerouted when she heard River's news. Her plan was to get her agents together with the local law enforcement, to shut down the factory and see if they could find Savannah Elliot. After that, Mal was sure the Alliance was going to have their hands full searching all of the factories on Greenleaf to find which ones were legitimate and which ones were using slaves.

It was sometime during the morning, a day after the failed meeting with Bones, when he got his first sight of Savannah Elliot—a little girl with dark blonde hair, freckles, and a missing tooth. Agent Burnham herself brought her to _Serenity,_ to talk to River and to ask Mal if he would take Savannah back to her mother. "We were very fortunate—first that she was alive; the conditions at that factory…" She shook her head angrily. "We were also fortunate in that we found the bracelet River mentioned—Savannah hid it so it wouldn't be taken from her." Burnham pulled a little bracelet out of her pocket. It was set with what looked like little plastic beads. "This—" she pointed at one of the beads "—has a chip in it. We scanned it, but it contains a code—we've been trying to break it all morning. I thought River might want to have a crack at it."

Mal sighed and motioned Burnham aboard his ship. "She'd probably love to. And I'll get Kaylee to find somethin' for Savannah to do."

Savannah's face was gaunt and she shrank back from Mal every time he got near her. Kaylee came to the cargo bay and finally managed to lure her away with the promise of food. Burnham watched them disappear, and shook her head. "That factory was a mess. Some of the children were as young as five and six. It's going to take quite a while to sort this all out, try to figure out which ones have families and which don't. Not to mention the effect all of this is going to have on Greenleaf's economy."

Mal eyed the bracelet in Burnham's hand as he led her toward the infirmary. "What about Duncan? If that's evidence to put her away, it won't do no good if you don't got her."

"We're using the information River gave us to wave her and see if we can keep her on the line long enough to get a trace. My agents are working on that right now."

They stopped outside the infirmary. Simon was inside, talking quietly to River, who was sitting up. River's eyes went to Mal and Burnham, then dropped to the bracelet. A small, grim smile crossed her face, and before Burnham could even ask, she said, "Yes. I'll do my best."

:-:-:

River's best was considerable. She scanned the code to her computer pad and set to work, and it took her less than an hour to crack it. It turned out to contain not only a list of shipments—of slaves and other illegal goods—signed and authorized by Rina Duncan, but an actual clip of video feed between Rina Duncan and several leaders of border planets, discussing the way they would trade slave importation for cooperation to the Alliance regime. Ollie Elliot had done his homework, probably hoping it would be enough blackmail to get him out of the slaving business, but he had apparently underestimated Rina Duncan's ruthlessness.

"This will be enough to put Duncan away for several lifetimes," Burnham said. "The Alliance will make sure of it."

"If you can find her," Mal said pointedly. He knew that regardless of whether she was caught or not, the Alliance was going to have their hands full dealing with the border worlds who wouldn't take kindly to their slave trade being cut off.

"Yes," Burnham agreed. "If we can find her. And on that note, I'm going to go see what my agents have come up with. Thank you for taking the Elliot girl, and I'll be in touch."

After that, Mal had Zoe set the ship back toward the safe house so they could deliver Savannah to her family. He and his crew had more than done their part in this, and now there was nothing they could do but wait and see if that _ta ma de hun dan_ Duncan was caught.

They dropped Savannah off to her overjoyed family, and then spent the next week just sailing. Wasn't often they had the money to just sail, but after the drama of the past while, and the results of his last attempt to get a job, Mal thought he'd best wait a spell before he searched for something else. The last thing Mal wanted was for River to somehow mess up her injury _again. _

The third day in, Agent Burnham waved to say they had found and arrested Rina Duncan, which was some of the best news Mal had heard in a long time. She had caused the whole gorram 'verse a heap of trouble, and he would be happy to never hear of her again. And he didn't—not a wisp of a mention of her hit the newswaves. The Alliance might have put her out of commission, but they had far too much on their plates to want the story of yet another corrupt government member to get out to the public.

River slowly regained her health. She slept a great deal of the time, but was able to get up and move around the ship after a while, under Simon's watchful eye more often than not. Mal really knew she was on her way to recovery when he found her alone in the cockpit in the middle of the night, staring out at the stars as she so often did when the rest of the crew was asleep. She swiveled her chair sideways and reached out her hand toward him, and he approached, clasping her hand in his and slowly pulling her to her feet. He put his arms carefully around her, no longer hesitant, no longer questioning at all. As she tucked her head under his chin and sighed into his neck, he knew that he'd never felt more at home.

He didn't even know how long they stood like that, not talking, not moving, just resting in each other's company, before he broke the silence. "So what now, River?"

"Can we go to New Canaan?"

Mal drew back a little and frowned slightly at her. "Why d'you wanna go there? You almost died last time we were there, if you'll remember."

"Yes," River said, her dark eyes intense. "But that's also where _we _started to live."

"That still don't explain why you wanna go there."

"Because that's where I want to get married."

_That _certainly caught Mal off guard. He made a half-strangled, choked noise. "You—_what_? I didn't say nothin' about—"

"No," River agreed. "But you've been thinking about it." She stepped up onto his boots, stretching up on her bare toes and coiling one arm around his neck. "You have," she murmured, dropping small kisses on his neck and jaw.

Mal closed his eyes with a small groan, wondering, not for the first time, what the hell he'd ever done in his life to deserve this woman. "Been thinkin' about it," he breathed in concurrence. River's lips met his, and he buried a hand in her hair, pulling her as close as he could without hurting her healing body, wanting to feel her closer, and knowing that he wanted that as long as they both drew breath. Wanted to be the only man that she was ever with, to give her his name and tell the rest of the 'verse that she was his and he was hers. Wanted to be her captain, her friend, her lover, and yes, her husband, the one who would have and hold her for the rest of her life. Because truly, that's what she deserved, and how could he offer her anything less? It was something he could give to her that he'd never given to anyone else.

Well, intentionally.

River leaned back slightly, sliding her arms off of his neck and clutching his shoulders instead. "Heard that."

Mal drew a deep breath. "You really think you're ready for that, darlin'?"

"Yes. Been ready for a while. No reason not to. I want everyone to know." A slow, mischievous smile crossed her face. "Besides, then Simon can't try to kill you for…anything." She slid smoothly out of his arms, twirling to sit gracefully in her seat, grinning up at him.

That drew a chuckle out of him. "Might be right about that one." A smile played at his lips. "New Canaan, hmm? That ain't too far from here."

"I know." River's eyes danced with barely-contained delight. "I've been piloting."

Mal laughed. "Sometimes I think you know too much for your own good."

River just smiled at him. "Probably."


	10. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

"Mal."

River's whispered voice jerked Mal awake in an instant. "Huh? What—trouble?" He struggled to get his eyes to adjust to the darkness.

River giggled softly, and he could see her now, propped on her side as she faced him in their bed. "No."

Mal started to relax, hooking his arm around River and pulling her toward him. She sighed contentedly and curled against him, cheek to his chest. "Why the wake-up call, then?" He felt the tickle of her eyelashes and the press of her lips to his collarbone.

"It's past midnight," River murmured, trailing her fingers up and down his side.

Mal chuckled as he realized— "Four months."

River leaned back slightly so she could smile at him. "Four months."

"You plannin' on wakin' me up for every month we're married?"

"Yes." River wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. "I have to think of something big for every year we're married, though," she said between kisses.

Wrapping his other arm around her, Mal rolled to his back, pulling River with him. Her hair curtained her face and spread over Mal's shoulders, and her whole face radiated her happiness. She leaned down to kiss him again, and Mal gave into it completely. If she was going to wake him up, this sure wasn't a bad thing to wake up to.

A short time later, they laid together in a tangle of limbs and sheets. Mal was feeling drowsy again, but River was wide awake, curling and uncurling her toes against his leg and studying him with something akin to anticipation.

"I got a notion you ain't goin' back to sleep," he murmured, brushing her hair off her cheek.

"I'm not sleepy," she replied with a quick grin. She rubbed her nose against his. "Do you want to fly with me?"

Mal raised his eyebrows at her. "Now?"

"Mm-hmm." River practically bounced with anticipation. "We'll be coming to Shadow in a while."

Shadow. It was the first time he was going back there since _long_ before he'd met River. She had wanted to see where he'd grown up, meet some of the folks that'd raised him. "Still got a few hours before the proximity alert wakes us for that," Mal said.

"I know. But I want to fly us the rest of the way. I want to feel the world coming, see it before we're already there." River rolled to her knees and took his hand. "Come with me?"

Mal sighed. He could either get a few more hours of sleep or make his wife happy—not much of a choice there. "You're still a crazy woman, you know that?"

River grinned at him, swinging out of bed and grabbing her robe. "Yes. And you still love me for it."

His lips twitched into a small smile. "I'll get the coffee."

River beamed and tossed Mal his pants before scrambling up the ladder. She was already settling in the cockpit when Mal emerged from their bunk. A very strange, pungent smell permeated the air along the corridor, and it got worse as he headed for the kitchen. He made the coffee as fast as he could and carried two cups back to the bridge. "Kaylee's been cookin' again." He stopped by her chair and handed her one of the cups.

River nodded as she took her coffee in one hand and wrapped her free arm around his waist. "Mushrooms and onions."

"_Last _time she was pregnant it was tomatoes and potatoes." Mal said. "This happens again, I think we should all run for the hills. Don't think my boat'll ever smell the same."

River looked up at him, a smile playing across her face. "You don't really mind. You're happy when Kaylee's happy."

"Yeah, well, keepin' the crew happy keeps the boat runnin' smooth," Mal muttered.

River smirked at him, her expression telling him that he absolutely wasn't fooling anyone. Of course, he had never been able to fool her. Otherwise they probably wouldn't be here, in the wee hours of the morning, waiting for the first glimpse of Mal's home world, drinking coffee and sharing their lives like this.

And he wouldn't change it for anything in the 'verse.

—_**fin**_—


End file.
